The Good Times
Witnessing my mother’s death left a deep scar imbedded in my memory; never will I forget what she went through. Yet when I think of her, it is not of her last breath, but of all the amazing times I had with her that took my breath away.
On February 24, 2005 my mom was diagnosed with cancer. I was only thirteen and did not really know what to think of the situation except that I should never smoke. Exactly a month later, March 24 2005, the sound of my father hysterically crying and sirens woke me early that morning. She passed away that morning before school. I couldn’t endure staying at the house with everyone crying. The only problem was, I had no where to go except for school.
When I arrived at school that morning, I went to the cafeteria and sat down with my good friends, just like any other day. I chose not to tell them what had happened that morning and allowed life to continue on like normal. Even though my friends didn’t know it, they made a horrible day seem not so bad. That morning I went from hysterically crying to hysterically laughing with my good friends.
I can’t help but to recall the time we were in California. My mom and I rode horses down the coast of Pebble Beach. For miles and miles it was silent as we rode watching the sun rise through the fog. The smell of salt water filled the air and the sound of the waves crashing accompanied by the horses galloping pounded in my ear drums. Every time I look back, I don’t see the cancer victim my dad and I cared for. I see my mom at her best. She was a strong an independent lawyer that accomplished so much in her prime.
Even now, I would rather not think about the pain she endured. Nothing is accomplished by the tears the tragic memories cause. I believe it’s best to move on and remember the good times.
Moments like these took my breath away. Whenever I think about the time I had with her, I always smile. Of course I miss her and wish that I had had more time with her. At the same time, this experience helped me to be who I am today and brought my father and me much closer together.
So I continue to live my life as a teen with a strong appreciation for life. I have realized what has happened can not change and I don’t want it to. I have a greater appreciation for the time and memories I form with my family and friends. My mother’s death is a constant reminder that life is short and I need to live it to the fullest. Being hindered by depressing thoughts is not an option. I believe I must remember the good times to be able to go on with my life.
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