More than once, I have asked myself why it took me so long to eventually get over everything that has happened over the last few years, but I always came up empty. It was like trying to see through a block of ice in the middle of a tundra–hazy and unclear in so many ways. Never stopping to think about it, I kept pushing on day by day, night by night trying to figure it out without actually using my brain.
I've recently come to the realization that all I had to do was look back on all the memories I've accumulated over the years, and something would come to me out of the blue. As most of you may be unaware of, we lost my mother to her battle with PML–a rare brain infection–back in 2019. In the 9 months I was helping take care of her on a daily basis, making sure she got her medications on time and ensuring her hair was thoroughly brushed just the way she liked, I learned a lot about myself as a person and the type of relationship I actually had with my mother. Never once did I ever ask myself why I would volunteer to stay up with my mom throughout the night and talk to her or complain when my dad asked me to sit with her while he went outside to smoke a cigarette. I knew how much I loved and still love my mom, and she was the most amazing best friend I could have ever asked for in this life. We had that kind of relationship where I could go to her with my problems, and she would immediately give me advice–sometimes, it would be motherly, but most of the time she would give it to me as if she were my friend. She had this contagious laugh that would turn into a cackle if you kept making her laugh harder, and she lit up a room with just a single smile. I don't mean that to be cliché either; it was actually the truth. For most of my life–as far as I can remember–my mother was the type that people wished they could have as their own.
When her health started to decline quickly, and she lost her ability to talk...I found myself questioning "why her? Why my mother? She's done nothing wrong in this life to deserve this infection, so please explain it to me!" I learned very quickly that you never get answers to those questions no matter how hard you pray, think, or scream it at the top of your lungs. The best solution is to spend as much time as possible by her side as you can, so that's what I did.
The main thing I learned when I looked back on all the memories I have of taking care of my mother is that I care more about people than I ever let myself believe. I put my mother before myself on a regular basis, and I wouldn't ever change that. She was my rock.
YOU ARE READING
Excerpts From A Book I'll Never Write
PoetryI always come up with stories, but I cannot elaborate on them. I can't even finish a two page short story, so I write one page little bitty made up scenarios. I just want to be able to share them with people who appreciate the writing.
