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CHAPTER1
Samantha
I had just arrivedhome from another long day at the office. Working in New York was hectic, but the pay was good. I was hanging up my coat on the rack when my phone rang. I quickly approached the table at the center of my parlor. Placing down my bag, I fished out my phone and checked who was calling me. The number was unfamiliar, but I was not too surprised. I was the manager of a small startup clothing company in New York, so receiving a call from an unknown number was not odd.
I picked up the call and said, “Hello, this is Samantha Carter speaking. Who's calling please?”
“Hi Samantha, I am glad I could reach you. I am Doctor Judy, your mom’s doctor calling from Salt City Hospital.” I could hear a strange tightness in her voice.
“Is something wrong with my mom?” My heart raced with anxiety. My mom and I just spoke last week, and she told me she was okay. However, receiving a call from the doctor was not so reassuring.
“It's with a heavy heart that I tell you this: your mom, Marie passed away last night. I called to inform you so you can go through the necessary paperwork, and when free, you can come to retrieve her body.”
My heart stopped momentarily, and when I fully registered what she said, I felt faint and weak. I fell to the ground and clutched my chest in pain. Tears started streaming down my face, but I could not make a sound. It was like my voice was stuck in my throat.
“Hello? Samantha, are you there?” Judy was calling out to me. I hadn't realized I had dropped my phone. I picked it up with shaky hands and answered.
My voice came out strained. “Yes... what happened to her?” There was still disbelief in my voice. I was not ready to believe the last parent I had in the world was dead.
“She might not have told you this, probably to avoid making you worry, but she was battling lung cancer. She fought bravely; I'm sorry for your loss Samantha. I must go now; however, I'll arrange to have her body sent to a funeral home. We will need you to come to complete the paperwork and claim her personal belongings since you are her next of kin. Can you do that?” Her voice was soft and full of concern. I was biting my lips not to let my wail escape.
“Yes. I'll be back soon. Thank you. I'll keep in touch.” I cut the call at once to avoid hearing the words of condolence I was about to hear. I looked around my room with blurry eyes; it felt dark and suffocating. I cried, not knowing what to feel. Anger, sadness, regret, and guilt- all these feelings swirled in my mind. I had planned to go home for Christmas to see my mom and celebrate with her, but now it felt like I had lost so much time being far away from her that her death felt so jarring. I wanted more time together, yet I lost her so soon. What I found strange was her not telling me about her health. It made me feel useless when I could have been there, taking care of her.
I knew I had to go to Salt Lake City and do what was right for her to rest in peace. I wanted to get back home quickly to help with the funeral. My mom’s family would come to help, but would have left me out of the whole process if I wasn’t told about her death early. The family seemed to have a vendetta against me for not being a boy, and as the only child of my parents, before my dad died, I was not exactly loved by these relatives. My mom shielded me from their hate, but now that she's gone, I must face them again. The doctor would have contacted them, so I must get back home soon before they lay her to rest without my presence.
Furiously, I wiped my tears and dialed my Boss’ number. She picked up the call at once. “Sam, what's up?”
I steadied myself and replied, “I'm sorry this call is abrupt, but I have a very important emergency at home. My mom just passed away, and I'd like to request leave to go back home for her funeral.”
“That’s so sad. My condolences, it will be fine, Sam. Take all the time you need. Are you okay?”
“Thank you. Yes, I'm fine. I'll keep you updated. Bye.” She responded kindly, and I cut the call. Brie was a very understanding person, and I was glad to be able to work with her. I stood up shakily. I had to start making plans to go back home. I have been away from that little town outside of Salt Lake City for about four years, and with the death of my mom, I don’t know how I'll face it again.
I spent the next three days planning for my mother's funeral with the help of a kind aunt who reached out. They had already hastened things up, and in two days, she'd be buried. I tried to push down the feelings of grief and hurt, but they kept bubbling up. I finished packing for my trip and dragged my luggage out of the house. The loud noise and bustle of New York struck me like a blow, and I took a deep breath to steady myself. People die every day. Why should other people care? This grief was mine alone to feel.
I saw the Uber I ordered to drive me to the airport. He stepped out of the car and approached me. He noticed my red eyes but said nothing. I handed him my bags, and he took them to the car. I followed. After putting my bags in the trunk, he went into the driver’s seat, and I entered the car. The car started, and I resolutely looked away from the white-painted door of my house. I am coming home, Mom.
As my plane descended towards the city, I looked out the window and was amazed by the beauty of mountain peaks and the unfolding landscape. Salt Lake City was nestled in a valley surrounded by towering mountains, their peaks dusted with snow even in the late spring.
The plane landed and within an hour, I was out of the airport. The crisp mountain air rolled over me and I took a deep breath, feeling the freshness fill my lungs. The air was cool and not clammy. I got into a cab and told the driver to just drive.
I got to see Salt Lake City like a tourist. The city itself was clean and orderly, with wide streets and well-manicured lawns. Most of the buildings were low-rise, except for the towering Mormon temple that dominated the skyline. I still had some time to spare before I went to claim my mother’s things from the hospital. I wanted to clear my mind before I faced the reality of my mom's death.
“Driver, please drive around the city. I’d like to see more of Salt Lake City.”
“Sure, Ma’am,” He flashed me a smile, and I smiled back with a thin smile. Then, he focused on the road and drove deeper into the city. We passed through several neighborhoods with rows of tidy, white picket-fenced houses. People either sat comfortably on chairs outside their homes or walked their dogs. They all seemed casual and carefree. I smiled at the feeling of nostalgia, remembering I also lived this life.
The car approached the mountains and gave way to vast open spaces. The view was breathtaking. We took a drivable trail up the side of a well-trod mountain. I could not see the towering snowcapped peaks, but imagined them. I rolled down the window and inhaled the chilly air. Tall pine trees created a welcoming shade, but we drove past them quickly.
The car parked at a lookout point and I got out. I glanced up to the wide-open sky that seemed to go on forever. I felt at peace. This was a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of New York City. I would have let myself feel happy at that moment, but the thought of my mom’s funeral made my heart sink to the pit of my stomach. I turned back and got back in the car.
“Take me to the Salt City Hospital.” The driver nodded and without a word drove out of the hillside where we were parked. The journey back was more sober and depressing for me. As we got closer to the hospital, I felt my heart tighten in my chest.
Once we got to the hospital, I got out of the car and felt like I was walking through molasses as I approached the entrance. I was able to finish the paperwork early and took my mom’s things without hassle. Doctor Judy was not around so I wasn’t able to meet her. I was relieved about that because I didn’t want her reminding me of my mom’s death and illness. My mom was already in the care of her family, and I wasn’t ready to see them. I planned to see them at the funeral.
It was late in the evening when I arrived to my late parents’ home. The driver helped bring in my bags, I paid him and watched him drive off. The surroundings were quiet and a bit deserted. Our house was just one of three that were around the outskirts of the city. An enchanting landscape and beautiful flowers adorned the area. I faced the house. It was a low-rise building situated on a large plot of land which had been passed down through generations in my family. Around the house were little mini gardens my mom cultivated and behind the house were tall trees that I could not recognize. As I walked closer to the entrance, memories of my past flooded my mind. My eyes were misty recalling how this place dominated my childhood with love.
This was where I had grown up, where I had spent countless hours playing in the gardens and running around with my father. I remembered the warm summer afternoons spent picking apples from the few apple trees behind the house and the changing seasons that brought life and death to the trees all around. My father’s death dealt a devastating blow to us that has taken years to recover from. My mom, the last remaining person in my life that I loved, was dead, leaving me alone in the world.
