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Mother's Love

When my mother died, she left me our old childhood home and a letter in her will. It was stipulated that I should open the letter when I go back to visit the house. She died when I was in college. I'm not gonna lie, it was rough and I haven't had the courage to visit the old house until now, as the memory of her was too great and I have finally gotten over the pain of losing her. She was all I had, never knowing any of my relatives - if I had any. I wanted to read the letter and read her final message to me.

As I arrived at my old home, I became filled with mixed and complicated emotions. The old tire swing, rotted shack, dilapidated walls, and once cared for furniture brought back bittersweet memories of my mother. She was the sweetest creature god has allowed to grace the Earth. I remember as a child that what little she had was spent on me. Last bit of food was given to me, when it was too cold all of the blankets were placed on me. When we went to town, she gave what she could spare to those needing help. She told me that she wanted to be a nurse, but then I came into the world. Her own little bundle of happiness. She was always a savior of many.

She wasn't paid adequately and was always given the task never completed by her colleagues. Nevertheless, she always found a way to provide for me. On what time off she had, she cared for her garden where she planted seeds given to her by sympathetic farmers in the town. She taught me how to care for the plants. My mother knew exactly what each plant needed, whether it be more light or better soil. When she cooked with the vegetables, the food tasted like what I imagined heaven to taste - if that makes any sense.

When she cooked, she had a clear and serene look in her eyes and told me stories about my father. When he was in the picture, from what I could remember, he was distant. He loved my mother, but never focused much on me. He would give me a toy to keep me busy, but he never held me or made me feel loved and protected like my mother. She told me he loved her. He was older than she, but gave her a better life. He gave her hope, he gave her love, he gave her our home, and he gave her me. I never interrupted her storytelling stages. She would continue with stories of how we would take family vacations, of a life filled with prosperity and happiness.

What was left unsaid was that all of that ended when he left. She would stop telling stories and tell me to wash up. We would eat about once a day, if we were lucky. There were times where we wouldn't eat several days in a row. The last time we ate well was when father left. I believe my mom fed me to keep my mind off of him leaving. He left some money and items behind which we used to thrive off of. But they could last only so long.

Then, bad luck struck. My mother would be away for days. Then when she came back, she came back different. She had a sickness that took her foot first. Then it would be her leg a few months later. When more time passed, it would be a different extremity. I dont remember those days much.

As I looked at the kitchen and the now overgrown garden, or what was left anyway, I choked up. My mother was gone and I was alone. Her laughter and smile are gone. I will never experience hearing and seeing them again. Feeling the need to have her presence with me in that moment, I opened the letter.

"Hello my sunshine. If you are reading this, I have passed on. Dont cry, I knew the time was coming. Everything I have done, everything I have gone through, and everything I am is dedicated to you. You are my everything. With my last words, I want to tell you everything that you were too young to understand.

Your father didn't leave of his own accord. It was no secret he wasn't exactly warm to you. But I never imagined he would ever hurt you.

It all happened in the winter when I came home and I saw him towering over you. He had his arm raised up and I saw you lying unconscious. You were bruising and hurt. I wasn't even sure you were breathing. My little angel was hurting and I wasn't there to protect him. You see son, a mother's love is a frightful thing. I don't regret doing what I did then, as I would do it all over again. I'm adverse to fighting, but in that moment all I was focused on was saving you. I grabbed your baseball bat, it was always lying around, and hit your father with a might greater than God's. I hit him over and over until I was sure he was dead. I tended to your wounds and left you to heal. I was so mad that I didn't even think of the man as a father anymore. I didn't want to be labeled a murderer and be taken away from you.

You needed me and I needed you. I put his body in the shack and I cleaned and cleaned, destroyed the evidence, and waited for you to wake up. It destroyed me lying to you, but I had to. I had to protect you from remembering. But our troubles didn't stop there. Money was running low and I couldn't provide enough food. I did what I had to do to keep you fed. Thank goodness your father was still frozen. God surely was smiling down upon us. I took what we needed from him and stored it in order for us to survive the winter. You were happy, I was happy. Surely that counts for something.

But nothing lasts. The next winter came fast, as it has been every year since. I knew you cried from hunger every night, and it killed me as a mother. I sacrificed myself to feed you and make sure you were cared for. Your needs outweigh my own and I would do it all again. Your life is worth more than my own. After all, I am your mother."

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⚠️!!!!Check out the original here!!!!⚠️

By: u/Ghaagi

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/ej39p2/mothers_love/