Randall Quisenberry and his mother lived in Columbia. The two of them would meet every Sunday after church to eat and watch a movie.
On one Sunday in February, she woke up and said she didn’t feel good, and she died two days later. Randall buried her himself because he couldn’t afford to do anything else.
He spoke with the Missouri on Mic team at this year's True/False Festival held in Stephen's Lake Park about coming to terms with his loss in this episode of Missouri on Mic.
Missouri on Mic is an oral history and journalism project documenting stories from around the state in its 200th year.
Randall Quisenberry: That morning, we just talked very briefly. I later learned that, really, I think the last time anybody had contact with her was Sunday night. She sent a short email into work saying that she wouldn't be in tomorrow. She wasn't feeling good.
Sunday night – that night, I had a dream that I was in a house and it was like the inverted version of my mom's house.
There was a figure of a lady with a sword, and she was beating on the screen door of my house, and I remember – it's not like I didn't have a nightmare before – but something about it caused me to immediately want to reach out to my mom.
But, you know, like she wouldn't answer the phone. There wasn't anything I could do in the middle of the night.
"I actually dug the lot in which my mother was buried, and that was the most trying time of it. And, you know, I mean, that was that was one of the cheapest options. That was a consideration."Randall Quisenberry
And so I just I went back to sleep, and then I had another dream of myself in the rectory of my church – shaking hands and hugging people.
Fast forward to Tuesday, and I get a text from my mom's boss saying that she hadn't come in. So, I get to the door.
There's no response.
But I can hear beeping from her insulin pump. I call 911. I tell them that I'm entering the house. They more or less direct me.
And I'm getting through there. I get to my mom's bedroom, and I find my mom like – I knew that she – at that point, I knew that she was probably dead, but I still try to resuscitate her.
The Calloway County Sheriff get there. They cancel medical.
You know, all of a sudden, I have to get stuff for my mom's funeral very quickly because there's no will to speak of, and I have to get everything arranged, and I do the best I can.
I actually dug the lot in which my mother was buried, and that was the most trying time of it. And, you know, I mean, that was that was one of the cheapest options.
That was a consideration.
Any funeral you're always considering the cost, and I was able to finance it, most of it, myself, and a big part of that was that she was able to be buried there for free.
Around a month afterwards, I have a dream and it's still my mom's house. I see my mom, and I have a full awareness of what happened, and I'm telling my mom, and she has a confused look on her face.
She tells me about a couple of movies.
And then all of a sudden, there's like a – there's a flood, and there's a flood around the deck of the house.
And the river that come up – there's a boat that comes up – it's something that kind of reminds me of the River Styx.
