It happened in a blink of an eye. I wasn't prepared for what was going to be handed to me. I never expected it to happen, but it did, and now there is nothing I can do to turn back the clocks.
It happened on a Thursday evening, during Spring Break of my Sixth Grade. It was just another normal night in my house. My parents were upstairs in their bedroom, as I was working out to music in the living room. The dogs had been barking for some time, but I ignored it, as I usually would. Without any prior warning, my dad was screaming for me. "Put the dogs out and open the front door now!" he said from upstairs in his room. I just assumed that we were having company, so I did as I was told. I sat on the couch, watching out the window for our guest to arrive, but something else came. Flashing lights pulled into my driveway, an SUV and ambulance, following a fire truck. Paramedics ran into my house and rushed up the stairs with their equipment. By then, I was sure that something was wrong. I started to panic. My neighbor, Cindy walked through the front door with a very confused expression on her face. Mine had changed to a worry expression when I saw the paramedics bring my mom down in a stretcher. She had a slight smile on her face and she kept on repeating "I am okay, don't worry." That was obviously a lie. My dad grabbed his keys and pulled my neighbor aside. I ran up to my bedroom and packed a bag, not sure if I would be coming back home tomorrow or in the next week. My neighbor had walked me to her house, where I would spend the night. I only wanted to be with my mom, and that was what mattered to me most. I stayed up all night, with my cell phone next to me, waiting for a phone call from my dad. It had been past midnight, maybe one in the morning, when I finally got the call. My hands reacted before my mind did and answered the call. "Dad, what's happening?" I asked in a very worried tone. There was a long pause before he answered. And when he finally did, "They found a tumor in mom's brain, and she has cancer." My heart dropped to the floor, along with the phone. Tears started to pour out of my eyes, without any hesitation. That had been the longest night.
I wasn't allowed to see my mom for a couple days, while they ran test. But when I did finally see her, she looked so drained. My mom was hooked up to and IV machine and there were black circles around her eyes from lack of sleep. I walked up and hugged her, trying to not hurt her. She started to cry, and so did I. Mom picked my head up and she looked into my eyes. "I am having surgery, so you won't be seeing me for a while. Be strong for me, please." I smiled for her and she smiled back at me. That was the last time I saw my mom looking like her normal self.
Weeks had past, and I tried to use school as a distraction, but it failed. Nothing would help until I saw my mom again, and that day came. I was in history class, when I was called down to the office to go home. The worst ran through my head with questions like is she okay, is there something wrong, and some other stuff. I saw my Cindy with a smile on his face. "What's up? Did something happen?" she shook his head no. "Your mom is on her way home. Let's go see her." A smile lit up across my face. I was going to see mom again. When we got to the house, dad was just pulling in with mom. She was frail and her head was bald, with staples from the surgery. I watched from a distance as she cried when she saw her beloved dogs, Hershey and Cuba. I came in and gave her a hug. I made sure that mom was all settled when I took her to her room. My dad had spent the whole night re-painting the room and putting up a new border that had labor retriever puppies on it. She felt more at ese in the room. And that was the moment when I knew everything was going to be different.
The next couple of months were sort of hard. Between all the doctors appointments, Chemo and Radiation, I didn't spend a lot of time with mom. There was always people visiting in the house, so it was busy at times. I tried to comfort her when she was having a bad day, but there wasn't much I could do. I would try to make her feel better my doing good marks in school and making fun crafts, but it just wasn't enough. I remember the day when I went to school and expecting my mom to be in bed when I get home, she was emitted into GBMC because of the pain. And when I got home from a camping trip, she was in Hospice Care at Gilcrest, which was around the corner from GBMC. No one explained to me what Hospice Care was, but there was a lot of sick people there. I spent the night with mom while she was there. I helped her, even though there were nurses for that. During her time there, it was the summer, so I was shipped between my cousins houses and my grand mom's house. I felt like a kid in a divorce case. It was horrible, but the worst day came short after that.
It was the 9th, the day before my mom's birthday. I was at work with my dad, when he got a call. He didn't tell me who it was, but he told me that mom needed us. This happened a couple days after she stopped talking. When we got to her, there were all sorts of family members from both my mom and dad's side. My sister's friend kept me from going into the room because it wasn't a good idea to go in. And then, the mood shifted. People came out crying and balling in tears. I didn't know what was going on, until a guy went into the room and brought out the stretcher with a white sheet over her. She died. My legs reacted without thinking and ran down to the stairwell of the building. I didn't cry nor sob in tears. I contacted my family in Texas and my friends and told them what happened. By the time I got back to the room, most of my family went home. My dad didn't talk to my, nor did my grandparents. My uncle Danny grabbed my hands and walked me out to their car. My aunt Mary cried all the way to the house, but I didn't cry once. I locked myself in the guest bedroom and finally cried. That was the longest day of my life.
On Friday the 13th, the funeral for my mom was held. They cremated my mom because that is what she wanted. I looked at the back of the church, while everyone was coming in and I felt my mom's presence. I knew that she wouldn't want me to be sad, but to move on and remember the memories that we shared and made together. It's been four years since then and I am moving forward, while remembering the good times that I had with my mom and not the bad times. She will be remembered for the rest of my life.