We Did Not Lose Them

I have been thinking a great deal about death and how it has taken so many people whom I have loved deeply. I think about Mama often, and sometimes it makes me angry and frustrated that she is no longer here with us.

Mama was a fighter, just like Rocky. The devil could knock her down, but she would get right back up, swinging with everything she had. Mama endured more loss than any mother should ever have to face. She lost my sister Jeannie in 1996, my brother Danny in 2012, Daddy in 2015, my son Eric in 2022, and my brother Jimmy in 2025.

I have buried one child, and the pain of losing Eric was gut wrenching. I spent a week in the hospital with what the doctors called broken heart syndrome. Knowing the pain I experienced makes me look at Mama differently now. She appeared so calm and collected on the outside, but she must have been in complete turmoil on the inside.

It makes me think about how many people are going through things that no one else will ever know about. We put smiles on our faces, say that we are fine, and somehow continue moving forward while our hearts are breaking inside.

From my conversations with Mama, I know it was her faith that carried her through those losses. It was also my faith that I relied upon when Eric passed away so suddenly and unexpectedly.

When you hear the doorbell ring in the early hours of the morning, open the door, and see two police officers standing there, you know that whatever comes next will not be good. They asked, "May we speak to Ms. Juarez?" I remember sitting on the stairs in complete disbelief. Mamaw asked what had happened. When I was finally able to force the words out, she cried, "No! No, not our Eric."

We often say that we have "lost" someone, but the truth is that we did not lose them. I know where they are, and Mama knew where they went.

The Bible does not pretend that death is easy. It calls death an enemy: "The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death." (1 Corinthians 15:26, KJV)

Mama was going through so much physically that I cannot imagine everything she must have felt. I tried my best to protect her, advocate for her, and be the person who would save her at the end of the day. Even while lying in the ICU, Mama knew something was wrong. She repeatedly asked for her doctors.

I still think about that day. I replay it in my mind over and over again, asking myself, "What if I had done this?" or "What if I had done that?" But the truth is that there was nothing more I could do. When Jesus calls us home and says, "Come on in, I have been waiting for you," our earthly journey is over.

I promised Mama that I would take care of her, and I am still keeping that promise. I reported the doctors and nurses involved in her care that day because I believe serious questions remain about what happened and whether opportunities to intervene were missed. I think about how many other families may have experienced something similar but felt powerless to speak up. That thought makes me fight even harder, not only for Mama, but also in the hope that another family will not have to endure the same pain.

If you are grieving, caregiving, advocating, or silently carrying a burden that no one else can see, please remember this: You are not alone. God is fighting for you, and He is carrying you when you feel that you can no longer carry yourself. Death may be an enemy, but through Jesus Christ, death does not have the final word.