I think of how she’s already been through so much. She’s the bravest person I know. It doesn’t seem like it was very long ago, I was running around carelessly, with the other kids in the park in front of the museum. There were dinosaur statues amongst the trees, and bushes. It was such a beautiful day. So as not to spend the entire summer with Dad, I went to camp from the time I was four, until I was fourteen. I didn’t mind going to camp though, I enjoyed spending the extra time riding in the car with Mom. After camp everyday, she’d buy me hot chocolate from the vending machine.
This particular day, we were all playing capture the flag in the park. I was running around trying not to get tagged, when suddenly I stopped, and stared up ahead. I knew right away that something was wrong. Mom was walking towards me from a distance. She never picked me up early from camp. I could see tears welling up in her eyes as she knelt down in before me, taking my hand.
“I have some bad news,“ she paused, and then continued “and some good news. Which do you want to hear first?”
“The good news is: they caught it early, and they think that after surgery, and radiation, I’ll be all better. I can beat it.” She finished. As much as she thought that that was good news, it wasn’t.
The fact was, there was a chance that she might not be alright, and to me that was devastating. I couldn’t stop crying, and I prayed with all my might that she would get better.
The day of her surgery my aunt took me shopping, to try to get my mind off of things, but all we could both think about was mom, and so we ended up standing in the middle of a department store, beside the bath towels, holding each other, and crying our eyes out.
After almost twelve years of hardly speaking, my parents decided to be friends. Even though they lived apart, Mom would do my father’s laundry, and cook for him often. He never showed any appreciation, and when his drinking got really bad, I felt really sorry for her, that she choose to continue to tolerate it after all these years. I grew up, finished high school, and fell in love myself, not surprisingly to someone who doesn’t drink at all, and who is totally unlike my father.
Not yet finished university, I got engaged. My dad quit drinking this past year, and promised me he would walk me down the aisle. I still have my doubts. With me moving out, Mom decided to sell her house, rid herself of the debts she’d had my whole life, and move in with my father to save money to finally retire. I thought she was crazy, but she couldn’t think of any other way.
I would love some feedback, good or bad. Thank you for reading along with the story.