A Mothers Whisper

Good evening, I am hoping I can borrow you for a few minutes. I have an occasional situation that I could use some help with. I have heard that one is never alone, however I have never heard of anything like what I am experiencing happen to anyone else, which is why I am asking for your help. I need to give you some background in order for you to possibly be better to understand this unusual situation of mine.

From the time my mother entered middle school, she was introduced to illegal and illicit drugs. She used them throughout high school as well and into early adulthood. When she was 20 her and her boyfriend got into a huge fight with her coming out on the wrong end. She ended up in the hospital for over a week, while he had to finish up his final 56 months of incarceration for a previous offense. He had been out on probation until that night they argued.

On her first night in the hospital she found out she was pregnant with me and the case worker, along with a few other counselors, talked with her during her stay. I was told she was distraught since she never believed that she would be able to care for a child in her current state. As her 10 days in that bed came to an end she made a decision to turn her life around, as well as for the life that was growing inside of her.

It wasn't easy and fortunately she had a lot of help along the way while becoming clean for the first time in nearly a decade. Her mother, my grandmother, allowed her to live in her childhood home as she too saw my mother changing, thus becoming responsible. She even went to a community college to get her real estate license as she loved architecture. Soon after I was born she was able to secure her real estate license and found a job with a national company selling houses locally. Everyone has told me she more than excelled in her new field, staying clean along the way, at the same time distancing herself from those weighty chains of addiction one day at a time.

I need to mention that we lived in the suburbs of Las Vegas which hosted hundreds, if not thousands of conventions every year. Her company always had their year end celebration there and as in all the prior years they offered a contest for anyone that chose to enter. They had to give a reason as to why they should be the person to open each and every day of the five day convention. She entered not thinking that she would have a chance of being one on the daily master of ceremonies, mainly since she barely had four years of experience. What happened next are what dreams are made of.

She was not only chosen as one of the five speakers, she was picked as the overall winner as it also had some accolades attached. My mother was the opening speaker to welcome everyone to the conference, then informing everyone how and why she had become an agent for the company. She told all of it, the good, bad and ugly, she did not hold back anything. Her speech was recorded and I admit freely I have watched it thousands of times over the years. It was what happened after the convention ended Saturday morning that will haunt not just me, but everyone that knew her including the ones she touched that week.

My, well I am not going to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him other than the sperm donor to my life. He had been released from prison nearly a month before that fateful weekend, doing all of the time he had been sent away for. He blamed my mother for putting him there, for wasting some of his prime years. He had too much time to plan his revenge.

Long story short, he accidentally ran into her, and I use the word accidentally very loosely. He had known exactly where she was for that last month of her life. He had hours of film of her and thousands of pictures taken all over the city. I was in some, as were her clients, coworkers and friends. He was obsessed with her to state the obvious.

He talked her into listening to him since he knew I was his son and wanted to know more about me. In one of the recordings he secretly made she said she didn't really want to tell him anything, but also thought he deserved to know a little about me. This was his ruse to get her to his room in the upper suites of the hotel.

Upon entering the room he brutally attacked her, this onslaught went on for two days. He even shot her up with drugs to make her more compliant. He claimed that she overdosed on her own and passed away. I will only say this, in under two hours a jury of his peers convicted him on all 14 charges he was facing and will be locked up for the rest of his life with no chance of parole. For that I'm grateful to those 12 men and women. Now with the brief background done let me get to the crux of what I am wanting to ask of you.

For years I cried myself to sleep, even today at 30 years old I sometimes fall asleep with tears in my eyes thinking of her. When she was taken way too early I was only four and half, with only a couple vague memories of her. That video of her is really all I have other than some pictures my grandmother was able to capture of her. This was 2000 when her life had been cut short, well before cameras on cell phones, I'm sure that is why I torture myself watching that convention video of a woman who had her entire life ahead of her. At that moment in time no one knew that her life was, unfortunately, five short days from ending.

I am not sure of the first time this happened, although I do recall it occurring soon after I was in kindergarten. I was falling asleep when I heard her voice whisper my name. I opened my eyes thinking she was right beside me, yet I only saw emptiness beside my bed. I remember being so sad to not find her there with me that I cried myself to sleep. This went on every now and then, of hearing her voice occasionally whispering, for some reason it was always only my name.

I was around 10 when I heard her one night as I was falling asleep whisper how she misses me. Again I woke and sat up knowing she was there beside me. When I didn't see her I cried myself to sleep yet again with an emptiness that I hope no one ever has to endure.

As the above math claims, I am 30 years old, divorced and have shared parenting of my daughter who is also the same age I was when I lost my mother. I hate to even imagine what it would be like for her to not have a parent at such a young age. Rather, I would hate for her to go through what I have lived with for the last quarter century.

The reason I decided to write this, asking for not only help and advice, but to make sure I am not alone about what I am going to describe to you. Last night was the first time ever hearing her voice, that somehow, I was able to keep my eyes closed. You see, it was the anniversary of her death last night. I had tears streaming down my cheeks as I lay alone in bed wondering what could have been. I need to interject that my daughter was with her mother last night, meaning I knew I was all alone in my apartment.

She quietly called out to me as she has so many times over the years. I may not really remember her voice, but I knew exactly how she sounded instinctively through the speech she gave to her peers. That soliloquy where no one in that audience had a dry eye as she spoke to everyone of her nearly impossible journey from the lectern that morning. It was her, I know it was her from the depth of my soul.

I kept my eyes closed because I didn't want to interrupt her. She whispered my name three times then once again she said she misses me. I will admit I nearly cried out with all the pain and grief that overcomes me at times over missing her, however I somehow managed to keep my eyes closed. It was this time she said something I had never heard her say before, she said that she would always love me.

At this point I could not keep it together and cried out with grief over the suffering and the loss of my mother. Still, I kept my eyes closed, somehow, I did, I swear to you. I had hoped to hear something else from her, to hear her words again. Please mom just one more time I screamed silently in my mind, but it was not to be. This may sound strange to you, I love to hear her when she is able to come and speak to me. However, with her final tender words of how much she loves me, I fear those are the last words I will ever hear from her again.

I can only say this, I know what I heard and what I experience from time to time, knowing that she is always with me. I am hoping to hear from others that this has happened to as well. To be honest, I would welcome any help, advice or comfort. I know what happened to me last night and I would hope you believe me too. Honestly, I would understand if you only believed that it was all just a dream.