my story: part 1

warning: this post goes ALL over the place...my mind was a little crazy



here's how my story goes....

i can always remember being worrier. from the beginning of time you could say. i remember laying in bed with my mom, my best friend. she told me to go get a ruler, i brought it to her and she showed me a measurement of a tumor in her ovaries. i honestly had no idea what that was. i remember being at my grandma's nursing home and my mommy running to the bathroom because something was dripping down her leg, i remember coming home and she cut her LONG hair to right above her shoulders, i remember her hair falling out in clumps, i remember her shaving her head, wearing different hats and scarfs. she still went to work everyday in new york. she still came home and made us dinner. i feel guilty that i don't' really remember her. i feel like i was cheated. people in life who didn't deserve to get to know my mom know her better that i ever will. and i don't think that's fair. i remember being a 9 year old brat, and i wonder if that made her hate me, i know that's not true but there are still doubts in my mind....back to the story.....my mom was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, i remember she had surgery and went into remission, then it came back and it came back with a vengeance. she literally fought for her life but rarely let me see her struggle. i used to help her attach her iv's, i remember there was a medicine that made her mouth taste so bad i'd give her a mint right away. she tried to make it feel as normal as possible. i remember the day that she told me she was going to die, but a nine year old doesn't really process that. i remember going outside and talking to my best friend, saying my mom was going to die. but when someone says that do you EVER really let go of that little hope that they'll be the one to make it. they'll be that one in the medical books, "1 in 1000000". we don't, because if we did how would we have faith, how would we keep going, how would we be able to get ourselves out of bed without hope. now shall i get back to the story? okay, i will. my mom literally fought for her life, you hear that all the time. but my mom never did anything just for herself. she was the most selfless person i know, we moved to a bigger house so my aunt who could never pay her rent would have somewhere to live when she was kicked out of her house, she would buy my aunts family groceries, clothes, anything before she would get herself something. she was told she was going to make it until October of '04 if she were lucky. she wanted to be there for Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. she wanted to see us open all of our presents. she didn't give up until she felt as though we had all the time with her we needed. on christmas morning she went to hospice, after we opened presents, she never let me see her in pain, she never let me know she was struggling, she never took a smile off her face, her ocean blue eyes always glistened, i didn't know it was coming. i know my family was trying to protect me but sometimes i just WISH that i got to stay with her that night, hug her, smell her, hold her, be with my mommy one last time. i remember visiting her and every time i went there was one more bed empty, i didn't connect the dots. i was too busy playing with my new american girl doll. i didn't know. i went to visit my half sister for Christmas break and when i came back the mom i saw wasn't someone i knew. she was in a drugged state.she didn't speak she was merely a body....she was not mom. i remember i hugged her, said i loved her and left. that was saturday january 3rd. on january 4th i didn't visit her. that night i was laying down going to bed and i remember walking into my dads room saying i wanted to call her. he said to wait until the morning, i didn't have a chance. and for right now, this is all i am able to write.