Of This I am Proud

Writing has always been my outlet. It has been a way for me to cope with life. The good, the bad, the funny, the sad and all the other stuff in between.

When I was a freshman in college, my mom got sick. She was really, very sick and they had no idea what was wrong with her. She was in a coma and we didn’t know if she would ever wake up.

She of course did get better and is fine today but the whole experience was unsettling to say the least. It was my first experience of dealing with the morality of my parents. And at the tender age of 19, that is a very sobering thing.

Once my Mom was better and life had returned to normal, inspiration hit me to write a poem about the whole experience. It was my way of wrapping the whole experience up and putting it away.

I vividly remember the inspiration hitting me. It was in the Spring and I remember walking out of class back to my dorm room when the words just started to come. They just started to spill out of me. I couldn’t control it. I remember running back to my dorm so that I could grab a pencil and write it down.

I presented this to my Mom on Mother’s Day. She cried when she read it and I remember being so proud that my words could touch her in that way.

So because today is her Birthday and any day is a good day to tell your Mom that you love her, I want to share it all over again.

It is amazing how quickly life can change.
I went about a normal day, when the phone rang….
The news was not good, “Mom is sick, you better come.”

I have never been so scared.

The trip to the hospital seemed to take hours.
I walked through the hospital doors and into a weekend that would forever change my life.

“You can see her now,” they said.
Lisa and Dad went first.
Lisa came back with her eyes full of tears and said, “That’s not my mom.”

I went to see and was in shock.
What’s happening? What’s going on?
I asked the nurse, “Is she going to die?”
“Prepare yourself,” she said, “We just don’t know.”

Alone with you, I took your hand.
I didn’t want to cry but tears rolled down.
“You can’t die,” I said, “I still need you, I need my mom.”

I longed for a hug, words of comfort but nothing, only the sound of breathing.

I left your side and cried.
I cried until only dry sobs were left.

“My mom might die,” is all I could think.

Two days past with no change.
I ached to hear your voice, for you to grab my hand.

Then suddenly, you began to move, thrashing, squirming, yelling for the bathroom.
I thought my knees would give,
for my mom was dead but now she lives.

One day more and I received my hug.
To be in my mother’s arms, oh joy, oh bliss.

Each day, I came to see you and each night I had to leave.
The leaving was hard.
I sang to you to ease the pain,
“Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound….”

After time, you came home.
I felt so proud, like a mother bringing home her newborn baby.
I have my mommy back.

I have learned to cherish you.
Each word you speak is priceless.
Each hug you give is like gold.
The time we spend together is a memory set in stone.

On this day, I celebrate you, your love, your friendship, your health and your motherhood.
I love you, Mom.

My Mom meeting Hayden for the first time.

This post has been part of Writer’s Workshop.
Go see what other people are writing about.

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