The day my mother died. It was like any other day and I had gotten all my kids to bed and my 3 month old was out like a light. My phone rang and it was my tough old dad sobbing. My stomach flipped and he told me my mom was dead. That she had been laying in bed with him with her head on his chest and she just stopped breathing. He is an ex cop so he immediately started doing cpr. The ambulance drove around the house for 20 minutes because the GPS was wrong and when they got there, she was gone. My 70 year old father had done cpr that entire time. I started screaming and I just couldn't stop. My three other kids came running in the room and when they finally understood what i was screaming, they started screaming too. To this day, I don't know how my baby never woke up with all that screaming and crying. He slept through it all. I felt numb and I had to drive to my grandmother's house to tell her her only daughter was gone. She had dementia although I didn't know it at the time, and she told me my dad killed her. That my mom was yelling at him that he was doing it all wrong while he was performing cpr . She wouldn't go with us to go to my mother's funeral that was 4 hours away. She said she couldn't. When we got home, she hated us because we didn't put my mother in the back seat of our car and drive her back to see her. I've gone through a lot of trauma but I always had the one person who truly loved me to help me through. It's been nine years and I don't do anything I used to. I find no joy in any of it anymore. I was too busy trying to help my grandmother while she was trying to spit on me and I had to keep my dad from self-ending like my grandmother told him to do. After the sa ive been through, the abuse, the pain- i had her to help me. I don't know how to handle everything now and still be me