Shelly’s Honor

Hi! My name is Maggie Kelly. My mom, Shelly passed away on January 4th, 2024. (at 9:43pm to be exact but who’s asking.) What a way to start off the new year…. I’m making this page as a way to reach out to everyone else who might be experiencing grief or loss & I want to share my moms story.

When you go through a loss, people give you their own stories of loss and what it was like for them… but no two people or two tragedies are the same. As a teenager, your mom is your provider and your safe space. When people tell you “ Just give it time , it gets better” it makes your skin crawl. The “time” should be spent with the one you lost. Your mom is made to cradle you while you sleep, hold your hand through a breakup, scratch your back while you cry in her lap. How do you get through her death without her there to console you?

When we got the call that she had suffered a stroke, I swear the world went quiet for a minute. No words, no thoughts, no movement. Suddenly I snapped out of it. My mom is 51, there’s no way she could pass away. That’s just too soon & too weird. She’s healthy, she works out every day, she hasn’t had any major issues with her body and especially not her heart. She’s going to be okay!

As we walked into the emergency room, I felt the nurses eyes burning through me. They were looking at me like they had already practiced the condolences they thought I would need. I’m sure they didn’t even give me a look, I just felt my heart burst when I walked inside. I patiently waited for my brothers to get there. I suddenly wasn’t strong enough to rip the hospital curtain open to see her laying in an old, outdated room. My arms were shaky and my body didn’t feel like I could do much of anything. As my brothers got there, one opened the curtain. I saw her laying there. Still alive, and very much still my mom. She was hurt pretty badly & couldn’t say much to us. Small grunts and moving around. The seconds went by like hours waiting on them to transport her to another hospital.

”Why aren’t they doing their job?” “Are we ever going to get her someplace better?” The day was coming to an end even though I couldn’t remember a single thing that had happened.

The day consisted of worrying, driving, worrying again. She was going to the best hospital. They were highly skilled in treating strokes, why would this case be any different? It was. Her body was there but she wasn’t anymore. The next day friends and family members piled in to the hospital waiting room. Each one sadder than the next. It was just waiting now. Every second that passed, the more I felt everyone else around me. 3 days of sitting in a hospital room. 3 days of holding her hand & talking to some one who couldn’t answer me back. 3 days of watching my mom slip away.

I’d never seen her like this. Her usually soft, warm demeanor was suddenly gone. She just laid there. There were no words, no country accent, no giggles. I felt like a zombie. The third day came to and end and it was just as much of a disaster as the rest of them.

Getting home after the hospital was the worst. Everything in my house reminded me of her. The smell, the christmas paper that she had wrapped our gifts in, the dishes i’d been taking from her cabinets, the tennis shoes I wore when we worked out everyday, the face looking back at me in the mirror even looked just like her. She was all around me but nowhere to be seen. The world was on fire and everyone was watching me burn.

I’m not saying all of this to sound depressing or make people worry, i’m saying all of it to make sure people out there that feel the same know that they are not alone. I’m telling you, You are not on fire. You are not going to end where they ended. You are still here, waking up everyday. You have the chance to keep going. You can hurt and scream and cry, and while you’re doing it be thankful you still can. The world isn’t on fire and there’s people to help you. I mean truly help. The world isn’t on fire & Grief isn’t a dirty word. Reach out. Discuss. Be there for someone that is going through it even if you aren’t.