Ruby Rare

There is no one more inspirational to me than my mother. She is a rare breed. And when I say rare, I mean ruby rare. The kind of ruby rare that you think you’ll never find. Not in this lifetime. Not in the next. She is special. She is my ruby rare. I usually call her mama instead of mom or mommy, because for me, mama sounds so much more comforting. Comfort, along with love, care, and sacrifice, is what my mother represents. She raised four children, two boys and two girls. And she made it look effortless. Even in times of struggle, she never let us kids see that times were hard. She made the best effort to give us the kind of life she felt we deserved.

I always admired her for that. Her style, so impeccable, taught me about femininity and the power of a woman’s natural beauty both inside and out. She never failed in this regard. My mother was, and still is by far, the most virtuous person that I have ever known. She showed me how to be giving and compassionate towards those with next to nothing. She emphasized the importance of staying grounded and remembering that one person’s situation could easily become my own. So being in judgement of others was always frowned upon.

This part of my mother’s character is why I accept people for exactly who they are without expecting them to be something that they are not. I understand that acceptance is love. And I hope to one day pass this along to my own children. Forgiving others, and letting go of past hurts, is what my mother refers to as food for the soul. I’ve seen her do this time and time again in her life, and always wondered how she did it. How she forgave past hurts from broken relationships, family, friends, strangers... The list is endless.

I often struggle with this part of myself because I am not as forgiving as my mother. I don’t forgive easily and I often want people to be held accountable for their actions. Especially if they have hurt me in any kind of way. Sometimes, I regard this as a personal flaw of mine. But my mother has often told me that it is the part of myself that makes me who I am. And that there isn’t anything wrong with that. My mother who always has the best way of articulating things, made me realize that it is okay to be imperfect. By nature we all are.

Over the years, I have taken this to heart, and I’ve learned to be more accepting of myself. Flaws and all. My ruby rare mama taught me that. In July of 2019, my mother became less and less accepting of herself after being diagnosed with breast cancer. She was convinced that she was going to die, despite being told by her doctor that the cancer was small and had not spread to other parts of her body. Her chances for survival were high, which was the greatest thing in the world to hear.

But my mother still didn’t want to believe it. My mother was becoming unrecognizable. Her joyous and uplifting spirit was dwindling before my very eyes. She didn’t want to go out anywhere. She didn’t want to see anyone. Her mind was in a completely different place. My mother, along with being diagnosed with breast cancer, was soon diagnosed with depression. The depression became even more severe after my mother had a mastectomy. This is when, for the first time in my life, I heard my mother say that she didn’t feel beautiful.

That she was somehow less of a woman. This ruby rare queen, who I admired my entire life, suddenly wanted to forego loving herself. And it tore me apart inside. All I wanted to do was take away my mother’s feelings of loss and sadness because that is what she always did for others. But I didn’t know how. I felt powerless, and didn’t understand how all of this could happen to someone as ruby rare and as special as my mom. I screamed, I cried, I had real conversations with God... I did it all.

I finally had a reason to be genuinely angry at the universe, and there was no forgiveness in site. But I wanted to be better than that. I wanted to be better for my mom. And I wanted her to actually see it with her eyes. I placed my angry feelings aside so that I could help my mom rehabilitate her mental health through resources and supports. I was taking care of my mom, which is what she had always done for me. And it gave me the greatest comfort.

It has been almost a year since my mother’s breast cancer and depression. And she is back to being the woman who has always instilled the best values in me. Without even realizing it, she has now taught me how to be brave, resilient, and strong. And to never take for granted personal health and well-being. She continues to inspire me every single day. And I am so grateful for her. I feel eternally blessed to be the daughter of a ruby rare mama.