The House That Built Me

Somebodys Hero

I smile as I walked to the front porch, getting yet another memory from my mind….

I walked up the porch, not being able to see my mother for a couple of months was harsh, especially since she had no capability with technology. I grinned at her small frame, her hair blonde as ever, and her eyes still shining. Yet, I couldn’t help but notice that she looked dulled a little.

She got off the swing and met he half way, enclosing me in a tight hug that I can truly only receive from her. I mean, my boyfriend gives me loving hugs but nothing beats my mothers.

But, when she pulled away there was a sadness in her eyes, like she had bad news from me.

She had told me to sit on the swing, following me by sitting next to me.

It’s a memory that is implanted into my brain to torture me for the rest of my life.

She started off with a speech on how she will and has always loved me, how she doesn’t want me to be sad about anything and to stay strong through this crazy rollercoaster that calls itself life. The speech made me worry more and more by the second, my leg got jittery and I stared to chew on my full bottom lips as I looked out at the scenery. I knew that I would not want to forget this, yet I still had no idea of what news my mother had held for me.

I was hoping for your grandmother died or your father wants to know you.

Nothing in the world can compare to the news that you receive from someone you that they had to get tests done at the local hospital. And not only did she have to get tests, but that fact that they are diagnosed with stage two pancreatic cancer.

Cancer. A six letter word that seems to come into everyday life that we wished would go away. One that you donate to help people or to help find a cure yet it has never truly effected you in anyway during your years of life.

So, at the age of seventeen, hearing those words come form my mothers mouth was unimaginable.

I froze, all my feeling numbed as that word echoed around in my head. I was very aware of the worried look on my mothers face, her mouth moving yet no sound reached my ears.

Then, it all hit me at once, like it was building up in the back of my head to come piercing forward to make me break. And I did.

The tears stared rolling down my face, I tried to say something; however, the only sounds I was capable of producing was a unrecognizable blubbering. Her face frowned even more, making her look much older than thirty four.

I stood up and tried to walk, tried. But I feel to the ground, my heart breaking as the only solid being that has ever been in my life was my mom.

The mother who had me at eighteen, cared for me from a motel room until she could afford a small house for us to live in. the mother who took all the hate from the bastards in this small town and even her own parents. The mother who never cried in front of me to keep on a strong front. The mother who stayed up with me till two am to help with my homework. The mother I was bound to lose to this horrendous cancer that has little chance of being cured. The woman who is my hero.

She stood up and walked over to me, letting herself fall besides me. Pulling me close, I breathed in her scent, cherishing the moments we had and would have together. The familiar feel of her arms as her hand brushed my hair. My tears uncontrollable as I thought of the life I was bound to live if I lost her.

I hugged her back and felt like a little kid again, the scared kid who was bullied, the girl who scraped her knee, the one who wanted her father, the teen who went through her first heart break, my first professional rejection. All the days I would cry in the comfort of my moms arms, and yet, I felt like that was the last.

All I could do was whisper out one sentence. That one sentence that made my mom cry in front of me for the first time.

“Don’t leave me.”