I was 12 when I went to my first funeral. My Aunt Terry had died while her friend Maribelle was visiting her. Maribelle said she and Terry were talking. Terry leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Maribelle sat in silence. She thought Terry had fallen asleep. She approached Terry and tried to wake her up, discovering she was dead she changed Terry's socks and vacuumed the living room. She removed my Aunts glasses and put them in the glass container. She washed the dishes and prayed a rosary. Afterwards she called my mom and then called 911. Maribelle knew my Aunt had a DNR, but under the law, paramedics have to attempt CPR etc, even with a DNR in place.
I went to the hospital along with my mom, sister, grandma and aunt Kathy. I didn't know my aunt Terry had died. The doctor asked my mom, grandma and aunt Kathy into another room, my mom didn't want to leave my sister and I in the waiting room, so we accompanied them.
The doctor said my aunt was unable to be revived and was dead. My sister began to cry and my mom held her close. My aunt Kathy was holding onto my grandmother and crying. I sat there, unsure of what to do. I decided it would be silly to cry. I looked at the doctor, and asked, "What do we do now?"
Whenever a new year comes around I think about people I've lost. I think about them and try to figure out what I learned about myself from them. My aunt Terry liked me, she gave me candy and was always quizzing me on my spelling. She let me help her wash clothes and made us hot chocolate. She was extremely catholic and her house always smelled like church.
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