Sunday night, my Mom, Jeannette Scozzari finally succumbed to her illness and passed away at Beth Israel Hospital in Brooklyn.
I received the call at 9:50 pm.
And then came the task of making the phone calls, to family, and friends.
On Monday, I drove down to the hospital to see her body, crying in spurts as I drove down the Palisades. My cousins Randy and Beth, met me at the hospital, tried to convince me not to see my mom in the morgue, they felt it would only make me feel worse. It was one of those moments that you can’t really convey in words. Those scenes in the movies that you see sometimes really cannot adequately show how it is when you step up to a loved one who has passed, in that situation. The feeling I had for the briefest of moments was surreal, as if I were looking at someone else, who was doing what I was doing. I stepped up to where my mom was, and the tears started to flow freely, almost like a torrent of rain. I held her in my arms, and thru my tears I kissed her forehead, and I told her I was sorry, sorry for not being able to get her home, sorry that I wasn’t with her before she left us, and that I loved her always.
After going to my cousin Randy’s house for a little bit, I took the drive home, away from my mom for the short term.
I made the Funeral arrangements for her. She will be placed beside my dad at a Veterans Cemetery near where we live.
During all of my mom’s hospitalization, I tried to be as positive as the moment would allow, to put on the brave face.
More often than not, I would break down and cry, thou I would try not to do it in front of her.
It’s rather ironic in a way, last weekend on Sunday, I got into a fight with the nursing staff there, because I couldn’t get a nurse for my mom when she needed one in an emergency.
I had the head nurse come upstairs, and I filed a complaint.
In trying to calm me down, this woman, who had not an inkling of what I had been thru for the past two years with my dad, asked me if I had some sort of anxiety that she might be able to help me with. I told her no, which was not true of course, but made it clear that it was unacceptable that a nurse was not always available to help my mom and the other patients that were in the room with her.
Before I left to go home last Sunday, I stopped at the nurse’s office. I told this woman that, yes there was some anxiety on my part, because I just got done having to write a second anniversary memorial for my dad, on the date of his death, while my mom was hooked up to a vent unit, the same as he had been, just a while ago.
I once wrote a memorial for my dad, in which I had spoken of he and my uncle, being together on a heavenly cruise ship, gambling together, and of course arguing about something inconsequential together, and always laughing together afterward.
If this is really true, than yesterday, my mother joined her husband, finally happy again, along with my uncle, and my other family members, who have passed, hugging one another, holding hands, and continuing their journey together hand in hand, happy and unencumbered of life’s problems.
My heart is heavy, and I grieve the loss of both my parents now, both I love them both now more than ever, and will always honor and cherish them both, until we are together again.