Personal Narrative: My Mother

Mom was everything to me. My dad left when I was two, and according to my mother, that was a miraculous Godsend in and of itself. She had told me when I had asked, that he was an abusive, sociopathic, drug addict. Not someone that you would want around your two-year-old daughter. My mother raised me to be the best person that I could possibly be. She worked fourteen hour days, in order to ensure that I could play sports. I was on the track, and softball team at my school - and I was really talented. Mom came to every game that she could, just to cheer me on. Every Tuesday night I had a softball game. I would look into the stands and see my mother. She was so incredibly proud of her baby. Then my mom got sick. She had brain cancer. An unbelievably painful, slow deaths. The doctors gave her six months to live and she survived for twelve. Every month that she survived after the initial six gave me hope that she would beat her cancer. Each time

Life was no longer fun. I was fourteen years old. I stayed at home, holed up in my room, hating life. Now I live with my grandparents. They love me, I’m sure, but, they don’t seem to understand. I don’t want a normal life - I just want my mom back. I want to have hope again. I can’t seem to hope at all. Night after night, I go outside and look at the stars and try and find my mom. Following her diagnosis, I was unable to quit crying. I was so scared of losing my mother. Anyway, my mother had brought me outside and showed me the stars. She said, “They’ll always be there for you Mér. The night is darkest just before the dawn. Sometimes you need to stop and go back just to carry on. There’s no need to feel defeated - so don’t let it get you down. When I’m dead and gone, come outside and look at the stars. They will always be there, just like I will be. I’ll always be there for you, looking down at you, and trying hard to explode from the pride that I feel for my baby