Tick. Tick. Tick. I knew it was going to happen. Tick. Tick. Tick.

There was nothing I could do about it. I knew the pain she was going through and for months, I knew the time was coming. She was eventually going to leave, head for that better place. The most bittersweet feeling I’ve ever felt.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

It was a Monday night. That whole day went way too fast. My friends came to visit the hospital after school let out. They didn’t know that she was in her final hours; I did. They didn’t know that the eighteen years I knew my mother were about to be summarized into one day, one sound, one heartbeat, one hospital bed; I did. The sounds of the heart rate monitor haunted me. The normal, steady beat changing in an instant, I knew she would be gone. I studied it for hours, counted it, recorded it. As long as I heard those sounds, I knew I still had her.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Unfortunately, my mother’s death has separated my father and I even more than we were before. My dad took it hard. The woman he loved for so long was gone and there was nothing that he could do about it. A wedge driven between us, rooted in love, exposed to hurt. He wants to distance himself from me, from the hurt. Sacrificing the one relationship I need the most.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

For a lot of the worst and most depressing parts of my life, the only person who was truly there for me was my mother. She made my breakfast on Sunday mornings and told me that she loved me every day. Watching her go through the process of dying over the course of a year and a half changed my days from hanging out with friends and going out, to coming home and checking on her, making sure she had not left.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The thing about cancer is that once someone gets it, the clock starts ticking. Even if the doctors can remove it, it’s most likely going to come back. It takes countless amounts of money to save people from it, money that we didn’t have. We couldn’t decide whether or not to put her through treatment because on one hand, it would have prolonged her life and I could’ve shared more of my life with her, but in retrospect, I would never want to put her through that pain. Also, the struggle to raise $80,000 crippled my family. Her medical bills were draining our income and her condition was rapidly getting worse. With every second, she drifted farther away. However, her comfort was more important than a few selfish seconds.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Having a parent die is not a common occurrence for people who are my age, I only had a handful of people that I knew who had gone through this before me but I never talked to them about it. The feeling of losing a parent cannot be described with words, it’s the feeling of knowing that they won’t see you graduate, they won’t see you get married and won’t see your children and care for them like their own. This breaks my heart because she always encouraged me to do great things and to remember her when I did. I wanted to break out of this town and buy her everything she wanted. But I can’t do that.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Whenever anyone that I know dies, I think about my own life. The thought of my own mortality is haunting. I don’t understand how people can be at peace with it or want to die themselves. Someday everyone dies, but I’m nowhere near ready for it. I’ve lived a fifth of my life already and I only remember bits and pieces of it. I’m terrified by death. Even when I arrive in heaven, I’ll be scared. I have been told for years what it’s like but I can’t be sure. I have no idea if in eternal life, I will see the people who I’ve loved and wait for others to join me, but I hope I will. Every second brings me closer to that fear but closer to her love.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

I will never stop missing my mom. She was the best woman I’ve ever met and I will remember her forever. After a little while, I came to peace with what had happened. I am unbelievably thankful that she didn’t have to go through any more pain. The pain I feel never goes away. I feel empty; I’m missing something. It’s not that I am depressed or I want to hurt myself, but an immediate feeling of sorrow fills the bottom of my stomach when I walk in my house after school.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

When I miss her the most, I remember that the pain of losing her will never hurt any less, just less often. She is in a better place. The cancer can’t hurt her anymore. She is my angel.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

I’ll see her again someday and just like when I lost her, the first thing I’ll do is cry. This time: I’ll be happy. That is when I will be at peace.

The clock keeps ticking, the pain keeps hurting and unlike her, I keep living.