Chapter 7: Unsettled

August 31, 2025

You know when you can just feel that the day is going to be a bad day?

Today started in a blur of yesterday. I didn’t make it to bed until closer to 1am as I tried to complete all of the work associated with funeral music and readings before I called it a night. Before I shut down, I thought I should make sure that the funeral home’s website had properly uploaded the obituary we ran in today’s local newspaper. (Dad had wanted to hold off on publication of the notice until today on account of it being Saturday.) Boy, am I glad I did that! The funeral home’s website had run the obituary alright…but I think they use some kind of AI program to regenerate the photo file from the newspaper and mom’s face was completely distorted. It was horrifying. Now, full credit to the funeral home – they advertise being a 24-hour service and the photo was corrected within about 30 minutes of me reporting it around 1220am! Still, I had to wait up to ensure that task was completed before I went to bed. There’s no way I wanted to dad to see that by accident. It’s funny – in my work, I am such a huge proponent of organizations starting to learn and use artificial intelligence in their work but sheesh, human oversight is still needed! Anyway, with that crisis averted, I finally tried to get in some rest.

Sleep remains elusive. I work up with a complete start at 4am. I was convinced I heard the phone ring. I checked the call display to make sure I hadn’t missed a call from dad. I even woke up my husband to double check and make sure I hadn’t missed something. I nearly called dad to make sure he was ok but my husband stopped me – probably for the best. I think we are all traumatized by middle of the night calls right now – I don’t need to make him any more worried or upset than he probably already is. However, I am definitely going to call him first thing in the morning to make sure he’s ok.

That was as far as my “rest” went. I actually hate trying to sleep. I can’t, even though it shouldn’t be this hard – I am exhausted. Every time I close my eyes, all I can do is replay Wednesday morning between 3:45am and 6:00am in slow motion and on repeat. It’s the worst movie ever made and I can’t turn it off. The call. Me being frantic to get dressed and get out of the house. My husband refusing to let me drive. Me repeating over and over again, “It’s going to be ok, this isn’t how it ends.” Even though I somehow sensed it was already over. The flashing lights of the ambulance outside the house. Dad. The EMS and fire crew trying to talk to us. Me going into the bedroom. Them telling us it was time to move to the hospital. The slow drive. The ambulance ahead with no lights and no siren. The security desk waiting for us at emergency. Being escorted into the “quiet room.” The doctor’s first visit. The doctor’s second visit. Going to see mom. Seeing mom’s eyes not fully shut and her mouth partially open, still with the oxygen mask in it. Being mad at the hospital staff for not shutting her eyes or removing the mask – she didn’t look peaceful at all. Asking for the priest. Waiting. Doing the prayers. Kissing mom goodbye. Her hair was so soft. Her body seemed so tiny. Getting the standard issue grief package and wondering what the hell I’m going to do with it. Leaving the hospital. Turning around 3 minutes later after the call to come and get mom’s jewelry. Removing mom’s chain, her wedding band, and engagement ring. Struggling to get the rings off – her fingers were just starting to turn blue and swell. Telling her I’m sorry if I hurt her. Kissing her goodbye for the last time. Knowing it was the last time.

I wonder if I will ever sleep again. I wonder if I will ever stop being tortured by the movie.

I am so tired. But Friday is coming quick. And everything needs to be perfect.

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