Content Warning:
This entry reflects childhood grief, loss, and death.
This is based on real-life experiences and is not related to consensual BDSM, age-play, or roleplay. Reader discretion is advised.
If this feels heavy, please reach out to someone you trust.
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The Day Everything Changed– My Mamaw
February 26, 1959 — March 6, 2012
The night before it happened, I remember Mamaw didn’t look good. She looked sick—really sick. Her skin, her face… something about her didn’t feel right to me.
I gave her a hug goodbye, just as I always did. Told her I’d see her again. Then I did what I was told and went to the car. As I was walking away, I saw Anna beside her, talking to her. Anna was the last person who spoke to her, next to her side. I just remember going home that night with my aunt and siblings. I went home that night, holding onto the idea that tomorrow would be another day.
The next day started out like any normal school day. I got off the bus, checked the mail, and started walking toward the house— my grandparents’ house.
Outside, I saw my aunt Leanna.
She was crying, and a white truck was nearby. I didn’t understand what was going on. I thought maybe the truck had run over her foot or something. I kept moving, headed inside.
But the moment I stepped in, my whole world flipped upside down.
The first thing I noticed was that Mamaw’s chair was gone.
She always slept in that living room chair. That was her spot. And now it was just... empty.
Then I saw Richard. And Anna. And I knew something was off, especially since Richard was there and the quietness of the living room.
Aunt Rebecca had broken the DSS rules all the time—Anna wasn’t supposed to be around me or my siblings.
But I was used to it and rules being broken.
But they were both there.
And everyone was crying.
I didn’t know what was going on.
I was just a kid trying to understand why everyone looked so broken.
I asked where Mamaw was.
And it was Anna who told me.
She looked at me; she wasn’t with us anymore.
She had died in her sleep from a heart attack. They said she peed herself when she passed, and that’s why they had to get rid of her chair.
That was how I found out.
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Just a house full of people crying, a missing chair, and the sharp, hollow ache that comes when someone you love is gone forever. When Aunt Rebecca took us to Charlotte. Later, when I was visiting family in Charlotte, I remember seeing documents from the NC Office of the Chief Medical Examiner because I wanted to understand more.
I carried that grief with me for a long time.
I was 10 years old.
Mamaw died on March 6, 2012.
And not long after that… I was back in foster care again.
On August 1, 2012, I was officially placed back into the system.
A new chapter of my life was about to begin, and it wouldn’t be easy.
From Aunt Rebecca… to the White.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
—Psalm 34:18
