When I grew up, I thought that I lived in the perfect family.
My mom and my dad got a divorce when I was four years old. I have two older sisters and my mom filed to have sole custody of us kids. My mom and my dad had a house together but she accepted a small sum of money in order to have us kids instead of claiming half of the house. She moved in, in a three room apartment with us kids and took on two jobs in order to be able to support us. Our dad lived 3 minutes from us but we hardly ever saw him .Usually he came down to visit us for a little bit on Christmas and sometimes he had us for the weekend. When he did have us for the weekend, he always had plans for himself though .Usually that meant him going out dancing and that meant that we had to manage on our own. I always felt grateful towards my mom though because the struggled for us kids and yet she always found time to be with us. At the same time she had high blood pressure and stomach problems so she went in and out of hospital. It always hurt me, being so young and seeing my mom being carried away on a stretcher into an ambulance. I grew a deep respect for my mom during this time and I still have that respect for her today, if not even more. Experiencing all of this made me a humble person and compassionate for other people with problems. A couple of years ago my mom suffered a hemmoridge and she was in the hospital for 6 weeks. They told us the same day she went in that she would not probably be fine ever again.
That made me angry. I never gave up on my mom. Even though the hospital was about 35 min away, I went there every single day of the week. Also every single day of the week, I brought a gift for her. Every single day for six weeks. My mom loves presents and every single day, she looked at me and I said, mom I have a present for you. Each day I massaged her legs so she would not cramp up. I knew that it was the nurse’s job but they never had times with it and I never minded doing that for my mom. I also told my mom how important it was for me that she never gave up hope. If she did that she would never get well again. One day I baked cinnamon rolls for the entire floor of that unit at the hospital that she was in.350 cinnamon rolls to be exact. To brighten everyone’s day. To make a long story short, my mom never gave up. She now lives almost 100% normal life in her own apartment. Everything about her is intact and it is like it never happened. I tried to give back for all that she had given us when we all grew up. Maybe that is why she is doing well today. I love my mom.