It’s so loud, and I’m so tired. The hospital called 3 hours ago to say my mother had died at 11:40pm EDT. This was rather shocking (to say the least), because I wasn’t there. I was preparing for the trip, but her condition deteriorated so suddenly. And she died alone.
It’s so loud, and it’s July 4th. After calling a few people, I don’t know what else to do. What else is there to do except go out into the cold San Francisco night in a black hoodie to watch 15-20 separate displays of fireworks. I’m not sure how I feel about this yet. Is it a spectacular way to say goodbye and honor her passing? It’s certainly surreal, and it adds to my disbelief. But I walk up a steep hill and stand in the middle of the street anyway. I finally start crying at an overwhelming display of bright light and noise.
It’s so loud, and it smells like gunpowder.
NOTE (piece above written using this part of a writing prompt): “Today’s prompt focuses on the senses, particularly how certain smells connect with your grief.”
July 3 at 7:39 AM