Happy Mother’s Day

Happy Mothers day,

I never told you...

There are many things I never told you. There are many things that you will never know. From the very moment you drew your last breath, everything that followed are things that I can only hope you have come to know as time has passed. It is odd how life works. One moment I was a sheltered child who knew very little about the world. I was a child who couldn’t even order at a restaurant by myself. The next moment I was a thirteen-year-old with the world on my shoulders and expected to carry the weight you left behind. It was that moment that changed the course of my life. The day your eyes closed was the same day mine were opened.

I remember the moment the nurse gathered us all in the room to tell us of the news. My ears refused to hear, and so I looked around the room. Everyone was looking at me, but why? I averted my attention to my step-father who I had never seen cry, and yet, from his eyes streamed sorrowful tears. At that moment, it was as if a broken record was playing as I heard what she said over and over again.

As my eyes came to realize what was happening, my eyes then refused to see clearly. My vision was clouded by water that rapidly fell from my eyes. The room seemed to spin and the walls around me seemed to enclose me within them. I could not breathe, I was suffocating. I felt heavy and my knees refused to carry the weight of my body as I almost fell to the floor. The disbelief set in and I rushed out of the room to see for myself.

My mom couldn’t have left me. I had no-one else. I didn’t believe it until I draped myself around your cold body. Your eyes wouldn’t open and your breathing had stopped. Your body was there but you were no longer in it. Where did you go? That is what I remember thinking. I blamed God, I blamed the doctors and nurses, with whom we left you in their care. I blamed the doctor who performed the partial hysterectomy the year before. I blamed you for not listening to me when I pleaded for you not to get the surgery.

Most of all, I blamed myself for not doing what I could when you were sick. I never got to apologize to you for being so argumentative. I never got to apologize for making the limited time you had left, more difficult. I never had a chance to tell you how much I admired you. I never had a chance to thank you for bringing me into this world. You had me at the young age of fifteen. You faced scrutiny from everyone, being so young, pregnant and unmarried. Your father, my pawpaw, whom I love so very much, wanted you to abort me.

No-one else wanted me, and my own father didn’t even know about me, but you did. You wanted me. You quit school to leave with me. While I grew in your stomach, you made sure I would live. You brought me back and it was too late by then. I was already here and you worked to provide for me. You did what you could and what you had to do for me to survive.

I never told you how alone I have always felt and yet I find myself wondering how alone you must have also felt. I never told you how out of place I have always felt and I find myself wondering if you also felt the feeling of not belonging. I never told you how much I wanted to bare my soul to you and never felt like I could. The unemotional nature of our relationship was maybe because we were so alike. My mind is as strong willed today as it was then, even more so, and I will never get the chance to tell you how grateful I am for it. I have always wondered what would it have been like if you were still here.

What would my life be? Who would I be? What would I like? What would I dislike? Would I have faced the same struggles? Would I be where I am now if you weren’t where you are? What choices would I have made? As the years have passed the only question, I have an answer to is Would I be who I am today? I most certainly would not.

The question I have after coming to understand that is, does that make me a bad person? Am I a bad daughter? I have come into myself after years of not even knowing who I really am or what I actually want. I like this me that I am. I have come to love myself. I no longer doubt myself. I am proud of who I am. So, knowing I would not be the me I am today and knowing that I wouldn’t be this me I am today if you were still here, does that make me bad?

I have never told you that after you passed, I had to carry the weight of your absence. I had to become a mother to my little sister and a maid without pay while also maintaining my grades in school. I never told you that I had to give up a teenage life for an adult one without my consent. I had to grow up before I actually grew up. I had to live with resentment towards everyone and I lived a long while in self-pity. My sister lost her mother, as everyone exclaimed. My stepfather lost his wife. My pawpaw lost his daughter. My aunt and uncle lost their sister. Even my cousins, who never cared prior, lost their cousin. When your death was mentioned, this is what was said.

I never told or asked you, but what about me? What about the fact that I lost MY mom. I buried myself in books and found feelings too powerful to hold inside. I found a love of poetry and began writing. Spilling my emotions with every stroke of the pen. I never told you how glad I am that I discovered poetry. I found myself seeking other methods of expression and found a place in music. Listening and singing until I cried. It comforted me.

I never told you, how I found sketching to be most satisfactory. I never told you how with every drawing I could find peace of mind. I never told you how much it helped to further dig into the arts. Someone said that Art is like screaming. I never had a chance to ask if you agree. When I read books before your death, It was just movies playing in my head without sound. They were entertainment for a bored child. When I read books after your passing, I was whisked away into another world. I was taken to a place different from my reality.

I was a different person. I was in the story. I adapted to becoming the character I was reading about. Within the pages of books and in between the words on the pages I was able to escape momentarily and forget all the things I never told you. Because I feel happy with my love of reading, because I feel content, because I feel grateful for this love of reading and writing and drawing and painting and dancing and singing, that I gained at the expense of your life, I still wonder…I never told you many things, but, if I had an opportunity to talk with you today, I wouldn’t tell you any of this. I would simply ask you if it's okay.

Love Always,

Your oldest daughter,

Aundrea ❤