Template:Adminpick/December 2016

Just a little over a week ago, I was awoken at seven in the morning by a startling phone call from my mother. She informed me that her sister had just passed away in the hospital. For three years my aunt was battling leukemia to little avail, and although I was distraught to hear of her death, I'd known that it was imminent.

My mom told me that the funeral was to be set a week later in their hometown of Heppner, Oregon, a rural little place that she claimed to be quaint. Unfortunately, most of my family couldn’t afford the airline tickets, and the drive would be much too far, so they simply apologized and sent their condolences.

I began to take great pity upon my mother—if I didn’t attend the funeral then she would have to go alone. I pictured her in front of a headstone, more inconsolable than she sounded on the phone. I knew I had to go or I would regret it.

Later that day my mom called again. Through sobs, I managed to hear her say that I was to stay a week with her in Heppner, beginning tomorrow, if at all possible. She was currently living in her deceased parents’ home that they had left my aunt in their will; she had moved in six months ago to be with my aunt for her last moments on Earth.

Their parents had passed away about a decade ago—within months of each other. I couldn’t let my mother toil away in the home where all her loved ones kept dying, so I made a vow to her that I would see her early the following morning. I could almost sense her smile at the sound of my words, and she said, “Do hurry,” dreamily. Then the crying resumed. I assured her that I’d be there before she knew it and that I loved her before hanging up. (Read more...)