Stay Thankful
Minutes ago I was kneeling by my mother's bedside, holding her hand while she was crying out to me. She spoke out of determination, but her eyes told a story of desperation. She said "why me, why'd I have to get breast cancer?" I replied, "mom, be thankful you lived your life. You got married, you had children. Be thankful your eyes work so you can see your children, be thankful your ears work so you can hear your children, be thankful that you can use your body to hug your children." She started crying saying that she was thankful; that she prayed every night because she knew she was lucky. But she was shaking the whole time; in fear, in depression, but mostly in pain. Her new chemo treatment was taking a toll on her. The chemo she had been getting treated with for a year and a half wasn't doing it's job, so they had to treat her with stronger medicine. This new chemo treatment needs to go on for at least another year. She said her hair would fall again. Her eyebrows would shed, as well as her eyelashes. She called herself ugly. I wish I knew what to say to her to make her feel better, but I didn't, I never have. I started crying too. She apologized for making me sad, and hugged me and said that I was the most important thing to her. That she doesn't know what she would do without me and my brother. She finds strength and hope in us. I promised her that she'd get better. I promised her, and then we both laid there in silence for a while. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemies, no one deserves this curse. Things like this tear families apart, and it has taken a good stab at mine. Things like this make you realize what's important in life, as I have learned more and more. Things like this hurt more than any physical pain you can imagine, and it doesn't just go away, it sits in the back of your mind, only to revisit you again and again. Needless to say, this has taken a toll on me. But don't feel bad for me, although I'm unhappy, I'm not hurting. I'm numb, while my mom feels all the pain and pressure in the world on her shoulders; her only scapegoat being some pills and painkillers that can only help so much. My mom's the strongest, sweetest, most humble person I know. She doesn't have a single bad bone in her body. Seeing her like this crushes me. I kissed her on the cheek, and told her goodnight. She needs her rest, but who am I kidding, I'm going to be wide awake tonight.
