Life Changing (Mother's Death)

In the fall of 2012, my mother almost succumbed to her illness. I had just begun my freshman year of high school midst angry conversations between my parents and the threat of separation. It would seem as if they bickered about the most irrelevant things, almost as if they had no other reason to fight other than the fight itself. Those moments were excruciatingly lonely, my father worked until the dead of night and my mother would come home exhausted from treatment. I now know that there was no one who felt more unvalued than my mother. I wish I had the ability to iron away this blunder that destiny had fabricated, however foolish this desire is.

It was a beautiful, cool July morning in the mountains of Colorado; the birds were chirping and the leaves on the trees were rustling. I could almost taste the bacon sizzling on the stovetop as my mother made breakfast. Nothing could ruin a perfect morning like this… At least that’s what I thought. Interrupting the cooking of breakfast, my mom’s cell phone strangely began to ring; there hadn’t been many people trying to contact my mom since she was on vacation. However, my mom ran to answer the call. “Oh, it’s your sister,” I heard my mom say. Although I was in a different room, I could hear the concern and worry in my mother’s voice moments after she answered the phone. Instantaneously, my heart began to race. I began feeling sick to my stomach

My mother has helped me to understand myself, and to develop my characteristics because we have spent the majority of our lives together. One specific example would be in 2015, during an excursion to The Gower Peninsula in Wales, when, over a bonfire, we conversed about my father, and the subject of my conception came up. My mother told me that I was a mistake, because she was worried that she wouldn’t be an adequate mother, and tried abortion. This impacted me considerably, and it has made me live more in the moment because anything can happen, I didn’t feel like I was a mistake, or a failure or any of those labels, but I did realize that my time is limited, and I have to make the most of it. Another example is that during the initial split, my mother lived 5 minutes away from my house, and I would regularly make unscheduled visits to her apartment, and just talk to her. I comforted my mother, and we would talk for many hours. During that time, I hid my feelings behind my humor and

Growing up my mother has always been the most supportive person I know and also very independent. I’ve always had respect for my mother, she has always been a role model for me and my siblings. My mother has always been very supportive of me and my siblings, for as long as I can remember. Growing up my mother always encouraged us to follow our dreams.

I remember waking up that day and that feeling in my stomach, knowing what was about to happen. Growing up I knew about my father's sickness. My family, I recall, was always supportive. No one ever thinks about how one day, everyone you’re around for years, can just vanish. I cherished my friends as I was growing up. I lived there for a majority of my life, up until fourth grade. I remember sitting at a neighbor's house and having the mother come into the room and inform me that I need to be home swiftly. As I ran home, my head was crowded with thoughts to the point where I could not even think about why I was supposed to be home quickly. That day marked the transition of what would be the biggest change in my life. As by dad became sicker,

There was no indication that this day would be any different than the last. My father was about to go to work, so he, my older brother, and I were sitting in the living room with my mother. My father worked long hours in order to support us and cover my mother’s health care, so my

My mom spoke very little to each of us and seemed to be gone longer and longer each day until Saturday, which was moving day. That Saturday I had a band concert for relay for life at my local park. As the performance came to an end my best friend and I hop in the backseat of her mom's sweltering car and crank up the radio. We listen to our favorite throwbacks as her mom speeds down the streets rushing to get me home. As we pull in the drive, an unfamiliar vehicle idles in my driveway. Inside my house lays all of my moms belongings neatly piled up by the door waiting to be taken. My mom greets me at the door and introduces me to her boyfriend. He is much taller than me and talks down to me as if I'm a child. I cut the conversation short and sit on the couch with my dog Casey as they continue moving her things. After the last item is hauled away, my mom looks at me through the glass of the front door and says “I'll pick up Casey later.” and vanishes without another

As life progressed for my mother and she entered into her teenage years, life had more challenges in store. The death of my grandfather occurred when she

I sat on my bed with my arms wrapped tightly around my pillow swaying back and forth. My mom lightly knocked on my door and asked if she could come in. I tried to wipe away the stains left by my long stream of tears, but I felt my skin sting and eyes swell instead. She asked if I wanted to talk about it, but my response got stuck in my throat, so all I could do was shake my head and shove my head deep inside my pillow. Her bare feet smacked on the concrete as she made her way over to my bed. Her weight made an indent in the corner of my mattress as she sat down and laid a hand on my back.

Watching my mother live from pay check to pay check when I was young was difficult. It was always hard for my mom to keep up with other parents but, she still somehow managed to get me everything I wanted, and more. Even though I was too young to understand, I could feel the stress, and the struggles my mom faced every day. She was only 20 years old when I was born and, because of that she had no choice but to grow up fast. At such a young age, I saw the effects of being a single parent, and the ways it changed my mom. She not only had to be a young mother but, she had to find a way to replace the void of a father, or a father figure in my life. My mom was strong, independent and courageous. Growing up watching her live her dreams under all the circumstances she faced, made me want to strive for a better life for myself. Seeing how hard is was to live and to have enough

The morning wind is as cold as ice, slicing passed my skin while I’m standing against it. It always like today of every year: cloudy, cold and sad. Like the sky is crying with me. I blend down to a tall, sleek, marble stone with the name “Amelia Bennett” written on it. That’s my mother’s name. She died when I was 7 year-old, it’s odd that I have the memories of her very clearly in my brain. Most children probably won’t. But I do, and I when I do, I missed her. I don’t even know what happened on that tragic day. I was blacked out and the next thing I remember is that she’s now laying deep underneath my feet. No one knows what happen, or no one wants to talk about it, not even my aunt. She’s the one that take me in after the accident. Why? Because

The entire ride home from Morrie's had a horrible sense of finality to it. That was the last time I would see my old professor, as much as it pained me to admit, I knew it was inevitable. The world around me began to slow. I was hungry, but couldn’t bring myself eat. There were so many thoughts running through my head as I slammed the brakes of my car. I felt isolated, like I was the only person in the world. Cars continued to drive all around, some were still behind me blaring their horns, but I just sat there, coming

There is nothing like tragedy to teach you about life. When you’re shown how fragile life is, you tend to appreciate it more. As so many have said, you don’t know how good something is, until it’s gone. But my mother is still here. How can I grieve for somebody who is still alive, who I see daily? Well, I am grieving for the mother I lost. About four years ago, my mother got into a car crash one Sunday morning, after dropping my eldest sibling off at work. After that, my family was never the same. My mother’s car crash and the resulting trauma led me to realize how mortality is lurking behind the scenes of our everyday lives, just waiting for us to slip up or age out of living.

I reached for my headphones and iPod (I didn’t have a phone at the time), because it was going to be an eighteen-hour drive from Chicago, Illinois to Decatur, Texas. This was my last goodbye to my mother and I haven’t seen her since, and for some reason I can remember the drive away from her home more than my last moment with her. In the car, I started to think about everything that my mom did or didn’t do that pushed me to leave, and many tears were rolling down my

Every morning I still wake up thinking that she is there drinking her tea in her room , watching tv. Then suddenly the truth comes rushing up to me and I realize that it is just a dream hanging around me still, and a cold despair fall upon me. I feel empty inside. My mother’s death was a really sobering experience I’ve passed through. It was the most devastating loss in my life.