Mother and Daughter
I was 15 years old, and i can remember going grocery shopping with mom one day, and she suddenly collapsed in the grocery store. We knew she was sick, we just didnt know why. Our mom sat us down about a month before christmas, and told us that she had cancer, and that our father didnt want us to know.
We were all sad, and i guess we were happy that she told us.
That Christmas was the worst ever. I remember out father taking us to some place called Marshals, or Tj max, to go get her presents, and everything just looked so cheap.
I can remember looking at her, and she looked so miserable. Hardly any hair, pitiful looking.
I was getting into trouble, being that rebellious kind of kid, skipping school, and working. I ended up running away, I only wish that i knew then, just how much it hurt mom when i did that. I got caught, 3 weeks later. Got sent to a runaway center, then to a juvinile jail.
I had a really great case worker that got me, out, and managed to let me go see my mom. I rmemeber going and seeing her on a friday, one time. Sitting there, seeing her inside of the Hospice unit, I knew she was not going to come back.
I remember asking my dad could i go see my mom on that following day. He told me No.I was so mad.
That next day, sunday, I went to church. I really didnt like my father too much because he was so racist, always putting down me for going to a baptist church.
I went anyway, I needed my Jesus.
Later that sunday/Monday morning, I was in the room i shared with my sister, a year under me. I started drawing mom, and a cross, with a halo, and wings, with alot of scriptures. I felt her, leaving me. My sister made a comment like, you better clean that Crap off the wall before daddy sees it. I scrubbed it off with Clorox.
The next morning, it had to be 8am. My dad came in our room, went right past me, to my sister, and said she is gone. She died. Really? I wanted to see my mom one more time, i didnt get that joy?
After that, we had her memorial on a thursday, i had wrote a beautiful poem to read on stage, for my mom, and in front of people. WHen that time came, my friends were there to support me, and all of the sudden, my father says i cant read it. I was like what? He told me I can read it at her other memorial in another city, a few days later. I was so hurt.
Years following her death, my father kicked me out of the house, shortly after having my 16th birthday, and there i was, Homeless. 16, and homeless. I was homeless on and off for 7 and a half years, never really grieving the loss of my mother. Every special occasion, i do get teary eyes thinking about my mom.
I did manage to finally realize the street life was not for me. I currently work with the homeless, and have 10 and a half years under my belt. Today marks ten years exactly that mom has passed.
I wish sometimes, i can go back and say sure mom, lets go shopping together, or sure i will help you plant flowers in the garden, or i will help you cook. It hurts me more now today, wishing i could just reach out and touch my mom, hug her and tell her that i love her. My biggest regrets were not telling her I Loved her enough, and not being there before she went into hospice. She had been in hospice for two weeks. My sister says that my mom should have been died before that time went by. I just believe that it was a mother, simply waiting to say goodbye to her first born daughter.