My senior year was a blast. I cheered at Football Games, became good friends with people I have only spoken to once or twice, I became more school involved, and I had an attitude of “It’s my last year in high school, I have nothing to loose. I minds well try everything”. After Football season I became bored because I thought I had experience everything during high school, boy was I wrong.
I made a new friend that was in to getting high. She told me over and over again that I would never smoke pot. You just dont tell me that I will not do something. So I did it. I put that freshly rolled joint to my mouth and lit it up. What i didn’t know about that experience was that it would become and addiction.
I smoked and smoked for months. Through graduation and through senior trip to Panama City. But the most unexpecting occurrence was yet to come. Three days after i got back from senior trip, my Grandmother died. I woke up that horrible day by my dads “something has happened” voice in my ear. “Adam, moms mom died.” At first I did not believe the words coming out of his mouth. She was relatively healthy. This was so unexpected. Why and how did this happen?
I got out of bed to call my mom to see how she was taking this dreadful news. Bllllllling, Blllling, the phone rang. As soon as it stopped all I could hear was hyperventilation. I quicky said “mom, where are you?”. she told me, with only a few breathes that she could salvage from hysteria, that she was in the garage. I ran to the garage to comfort her and bring her in the house, but she was so overwhelmed by the news that she could hardly stand.
My mom and I took a flight four hours later to Daytona Beach, Florida to help her sisters prepare for the funeral. It was the most miserable reunion that we have ever had. It was so hard watching my mom and her three sisters pathetically morn over there mother. I felt something that I had never felt before, helplessness.
For a week we planned and mourned, and finally had the funeral service on a Saturday, six days after being there. On Monday we all said our good-byes’ and separated once more, but this time was different than all others.
As my mother and I sat at the Daytona Beach International Airport gate number 3, we reminisced over past experiences. It was then that everything became clear and peaceful to me. I told my mom about my marijuana addiction. She replied with a smile “I figure it. I knew something was up. I’m just glad that your done with it.”
About a week after getting home I went in to her room and saw her writing something. It was not the norm for her to be writing sporaticly. She stoped writing and placed that black notebook on her bed and walked into the other room. Curiously I opened the book and read what i could before she came back . She was writing to her mother about her experience with her death. But one line quickly got my attention. It read ” There was Adam, my rock”.
I believe in rocks because it strengthens relationships. I was my moms rock while she was going through difficult times, just as she was mine and our relationship has never been better.
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