A year ago, I was having the best time as a senior in high school. I was involved in many activities. I was challenging myself academically in many college courses. I was also holding a job to support my mom as much as I could. After graduation, I was going to move from Florida to Pennsylvania to live in my mom's hometown because that's where she wanted to be; for the last decade she was in Florida. I was going to move and attend nursing school and commute on the weekends to my mom's house (which would have totally have been decorated by me). I would have been ambitious. I would have been equipped. I would have been happy.

I went to sleep on March seventh a very proud person. My life had its faults, but I was as happy as I have ever been. March eighth, I woke up at around seven in the morning confused by the fact that my mom hadn't woken me up sooner. I then came to the realization that my brothers were in the hallway yelling "she's dead," "oh my god." I soon jumped out of my bed thinking that my dog, Maggie, who was terribly ill.

I opened my door to see my brothers pacing and crying. I got around them to see my mom's arm dangling off of her bed. I still thought she was okay. I went over to her, touched her. There is nothing in this world that could ever be so cold. I then began to panic, I began shaking, screaming "MOM," "WAKE UP MOM."

I stormed past by brothers to grab a hold of my phone. I dialed 9-1-1 while shaking terribly. I still did not cry yet. I had to save my mom first.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency." The speaker had such a calm voice. I was holding my mom's face in my hand at this point.

"My mom, she's not waking up"

"Does she have a pulse?' I shifted my hand to reach her limp wrist and felt nothing.

"I don't think so." I gave the calm woman my address as she told me to unlock my front door.

"You need to get her on the flat surface, I'm going to teach you CPR"

With that, I shifted my mom onto the floor. After hearing her body clap to the floor, I knelt beside her.

"Place your hands, interlocked, onto the middle of her chest and repeat after me... 1-2-3-4." "1-2-3-4."

I couldn't stay calm any longer. My brothers had disappeared to different areas of the house while I was attempting to find a pulse. I stopped counting.

"Ma'am, are you still giving compressions?"

"1-2-3-4," I responded.

"When will they be here," I muffled.

"They're in route."

I continued to pump life into my mom's body, whispering ‘no,’ ‘no,’ and ‘this isn't happening.’ My eldest brother entered the room, hysterical,

"What are we going to do?"

"We're not going to do anything, she's fine," I responded. He eventually left.

In a matter of seconds, the paramedics charged through the door, one looked very familiar. Gary, one of the paramedics was my marching tech for band this past season. This must be a dream, why the hell is Gary here?

"Kelsey, did she take any medication?" He asked me in a serious manner while he and his partner were unpacking equipment.

"She doesn't take anything," I responded. The pair eventually put these sticker things on my mom's chest and I saw a flat line. Okay, I've seen those before, all they have to do is shock her and she'll be fine.

Gary turned to me and said "sorry baby, she's gone."

"No, no, all you have to do is put that thing on her and shock her back, that's all you have to do, she's fine, she's my mom, she's always fine." I began to pace and fling my hands around. Gary held my shoulders,

"is there someone I can contact for you, is there anyone?"

"I just want my mom.”

"I know, sweetie." He hugged me. I looked over his shoulder, saw my mom on the floor of the house we have lived in for four years. It all passed so quickly- memories, laughter, mistakes, everything. I then realized what happened. I pulled away from Gary

"NO NO NO NO NO THIS ISN'T HAPPENING NO NO."

Gary motioned to his partner and told him to cover my mom with a sheet. This is what they do on television to dead people not my mom.

"Let's go outside." I looked at the sheet and evacuated my home. I didn't know what to do.

Many people from the county were instantly at my home. I was told to contact family. I first called my aunt, the one person in my family my mom has loved her whole life. She didn't answer.

"Did you call family?" I think this was the grief counselor at this point talking to me.

"When will they be here?"

"They're all in Pennsylvania, so I don't think soon."

"Do you have any close friends that are close by?" I instantly thought of Rose, my mom's best friend from work. I called her next.

"Hello"

"Um, Rose," I started to cry.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"My mom died." These words didn't seem right. I couldn't seem to chuck them out of my mouth without a layer of sadness.

"What? Are you sure?" She began to tell me that she was on her way. She arrived shortly after. The police officers were telling me to contact my absentee father. I complied. I told him what I told Rose and he told me he wanted to speak to my brother. I contacted other family members. Each time I spoke about what happened, I did not believe it.

"I called all the family that needs to know," I told one of the officers. They then proceeded to ask if I was in high school. I replied yes (while looking down at my 'Pirate Pride' nighttime shirt).

"Would you like us to contact your school?" School. I am supposed to be at school right now. I should tell them. That school was my home away from home. I knew who to call. I called to student services where my favorite faculty members answered the phone.

"How may I help you?"

"This is Kelsey from seventh period student aide"

"Oh hey, what's going on?" Her southern twang could not help me as I told her what had happened to my mother. She called over another faculty member who transferred me to a guidance counselor who asked me a bunch of questions I did not know how to answer without crying.

"Who is there with you right now?" I looked around to not see any familiar faces. I saw a lot of police officers.

"Cops," I responded. She told me that everything at school would have been taken care of. I was a senior.

My mom was not going to see me graduate. No. No. My mind would not let me think clearly.

Later, the county person asked,

"Is there anyone else you should call?"

I thought about school. I knew that school started soon. Student Government, my first class, started in 15 minutes. I had to call the adviser. After two attempts, he answered

"Um," getting emotional, "I'm not going to be in SGA for a while"

"Are you okay?" At that point I wish I was the one who was not okay.

"My mom died." The call fell silent.

I heard him muffle out a sigh, "Don't worry about school, SGA will be fine." I feel like he knew that I was worried about SGA, we had events coming up that week. In that moment, I could not even tell you what the names of the events were. The call ended.

Every time a person walked up to me, I started to cry. There were so many official looking cars.

Soon, after the numerous phone calls I had made, I looked up to see a little four door car pull up by my house. I knew I had seen it before. My band director emerged from the driver's side, quickly moving toward me. I did not hug anyone as fast as I hugged him. My director, in his nice clothes dropped onto the ground and embraced me.

"It's going to be okay," he said. For the first time that day, I felt safe; a feeling I cannot explain in words.

"There are band moms coming to help you, okay? We're not going to leave until we know you're okay."

The band moms came, they talked to me, they made me laugh which felt completely foreign to me now. Another car drove onto the driveway. 'Coroner' was plastered onto the big brown van.

"What? Why are they here?" I asked in a complete panic, they can't take my mom, she's fine.

The grief counselor told the band moms to take me away from the home for a while. I left her. I left my mom. One of the many regrets I hold today.

I returned about a half hour later, many of the cars were gone. My band director remained. The big brown van was gone. My mom was gone.

"Where did they take her?" I turned to a band mom who had her arm wrapped around me. She knew I needed answers. The grief counselor told me they took her to a place to find out what happened to her. I imagined a dim, cold room, one not fit for my mom.

They all eventually left.

I ended up on my porch, listening to my mom's friend Rose talk to me and a few others who knew my mom. I looked at the time and it was barely noon. Just a few hours before, I had hope. I was as happy as I had ever been. I had my mom. In just a few hours, I went from the ambitious teen to the one who can barely get out of bed in the morning. I went from loving watching television with my mom to only being able to find peace all alone in an empty room. I went from the daughter of the greatest mom I have ever seen to one who was raising herself.

The best part of my day now is early in the morning when I just wake up and feel completely normal. The worst part of my day are the seconds after when I realize that I cannot go into the next room and see my mom or when I remember that I won't ever be yelled at for not doing the dishes or I won't be supported by the woman who made my once happy life happy. She made all the sacrifice for my future that she cannot witness anymore.

I still went to that college my mom cried about when I got accepted. I live right outside of her hometown. I breathe the air that she once breathed when she attended school. I go to the restaurants she would rave about whenever she was feeling nostalgic. I watch clips from Dirty Dancing (her favorite movie) in hopes of feeling closer to her.

Today, it is a year later, and I still feel lost. I catch myself talking about my mom in the present tense. I assume that she is still here. Every day I feel as though there is a missing piece to my life- a major piece that I can't ever fill. My mom.

I will always love my mom, my best friend.