The death of a parent is like a bad luck day.

When we are babies every day is the same for us, and we do not have any distinction or a special date. But, while we keep living our lives, our experiences mark us in a way that will make us remember specific days for something good, or on the contrary, for something bad.

However, the bad days we experiment are saved in our memories like a bad luck day. But, like the Bahamas triangle, this presumption becomes a reality in a mysterious way, because we cannot live those days the same way, and no matter what we do everything goes wrong. Despite all bad experiences that can do this, there is no one event that ruins a day more than a parent’s death.

In some way, the day becomes a Friday 13 for us. And that date will never be the same again. The day turns into a heavy and cloudy one because everything around us reminds us of our parents. It is like when there is a new movie you want to watch, but you do not have time for that, and then everyone around you makes spoilers. No matter what attitude we try to take to avoid the bad luck of the day of our parents’ death because the day itself seems to be haunted.

That is exactly the thought I had for several years after one of my parent’s death in January, and yes, it actually was on Friday 13, 2019. My mother died when I was 35 years old because of a car accident. A truck driver fell asleep so he saw neither the red light nor my mom. She fought for her life for a month, but the doctors were always very clear with me and my family. The possibility that she could overcome that accident was too little, and time was against her.

Suddenly that morning of Friday 13, my mom’s heart stopped beating, and I was there next to her. The doctors quickly try to help her, but it was impossible. After all their attempts to save her the doctor just said: “time of death 9:30 a.m”. I am never going to forget that hour and that day because I felt like my heart stopped along with my mother’s.

My best friend and secret protector were gone, and there was nothing I could do. After around 4 months I moved forward and kept going with my life like always. My life is never going to be the same without my mother, but with the time I learned how to keep her in my memories and my heart.

However, the first anniversary of her death arrived. The week before that date I could not stop remembering all the suffering and the grief of seeing my mother in those conditions. I was very sensible those days because I could only picture her the way she looked after the accident with all the tubes and machines over her.

But, that week passed quickly, and without noticing the day had already arrived. I woke up with a terrible headache because the night before I couldn’t sleep very well. Then I started to prepare my breakfast; the milk for my cereal had expired, but my mind was very distracted and I didn’t notice it, so I pour the milk over the last left of my cereal. Conclusion I lost both, but since I didn’t have enough time, I tried to make a fast toast in the toaster, so while the bread was in it I decided to get dressed for work.

Like you probably are thinking, the toast was burned, and it looked like a piece of real coal. Of course, the breakfast wasn’t going to an option that day. So I decided to just leave for work, but in the way, my car’s engine overheated. I could not believe it. I had to take a taxi, but obviously, I got there late and to make things even worse I forgot some important papers.

The day was terrible, and while I tried to recover the peace in my office, I could only think about my mother and how different my life would be with her next to me, because whenever I had a terrible day, I just had to call her, and she made me feel better. The day kept going with the same bad luck from the morning. When the end of it finally came, I could only think about going to sleep and think about something else. 

To my surprise, the next 5 years on the anniversary of my mom’s death all the days, without any exception, were absolutely terrible. It seems like that day has some enchantment because no matter what I do, I can’t get anything right. However, over the years, I have been trying to reverse the bad luck of that day. I could not change the meaning it had for me, but I could try to do something that my mother would love.

So, every January, on that eternal Friday 13, I wake up early and take a walk in the park next to my house, because my mother loved that park in that season since the trees are always full of flowers, and the birds sing more than in other months. Then I go to work, but at lunchtime, I do not eat in my office like I used to do to avoid bad luck accidents; now I go to a small cafeteria where my mother said they have the best waffles in the world. I know that waffles are not for lunch, but for me on that day, they’re perfect.

Finally, after work, I go to the cemetery and sit next to her tombstone. I stay here for a while talking to her and eat some of her favorite cookies. Then before I leave, I place a cookie over her tombstone. I know she can’t eat it, but I love the idea that she is listening to me and appreciating the gesture.