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| A moment that changed me: not standing up for my dying mother | A moment that changed me: not standing up for my dying mother |
| (12 days later) | |
| My mother gave birth to me later in life having gone through the lengthy and painful process of IVF treatment. By all accounts she was ecstatic to finally have the daughter she had longed for. Around the time of my fifth birthday, my mother visited the doctor believing that she was pregnant again. Unfortunately, the sibling I had hoped for turned out to be ovarian cancer. My mother was given a 20% chance of survival and a course of chemotherapy. Somehow she made it through it. She’d won the battle, but she didn’t win the war. My mother was to be put through a further two rounds of gruelling chemo before my 15th birthday. | My mother gave birth to me later in life having gone through the lengthy and painful process of IVF treatment. By all accounts she was ecstatic to finally have the daughter she had longed for. Around the time of my fifth birthday, my mother visited the doctor believing that she was pregnant again. Unfortunately, the sibling I had hoped for turned out to be ovarian cancer. My mother was given a 20% chance of survival and a course of chemotherapy. Somehow she made it through it. She’d won the battle, but she didn’t win the war. My mother was to be put through a further two rounds of gruelling chemo before my 15th birthday. |
| Meanwhile, throughout her treatment, I grew up. I went to secondary school and passed my exams when the time came. However, while I had mastered Pythagoras’s theorum, I had failed to appreciate the severity of my mother’s sickness, or to appreciate her achievement in beating it back down every time it reared its life-destroying head. | Meanwhile, throughout her treatment, I grew up. I went to secondary school and passed my exams when the time came. However, while I had mastered Pythagoras’s theorum, I had failed to appreciate the severity of my mother’s sickness, or to appreciate her achievement in beating it back down every time it reared its life-destroying head. |
| Perhaps distancing myself from my sick mother helped me to cope, but there were periods when my mother was well and we had a fractious relationship. She was older, slower and more tired than my friends’ parents. It wasn’t fair. We argued every day about anything I could think of. For me, these fights were my sole act of teenage rebellion. For her, they were soul-destroying wars driving a wedge between herself and her only child. | Perhaps distancing myself from my sick mother helped me to cope, but there were periods when my mother was well and we had a fractious relationship. She was older, slower and more tired than my friends’ parents. It wasn’t fair. We argued every day about anything I could think of. For me, these fights were my sole act of teenage rebellion. For her, they were soul-destroying wars driving a wedge between herself and her only child. |
| It came to a head on my 18th birthday, this year. My parents and I had decided to spend the day in Brighton together to celebrate. We shopped, enjoyed a nice meal, and my mother and I even put up with one another long enough to have our nails painted together. | It came to a head on my 18th birthday, this year. My parents and I had decided to spend the day in Brighton together to celebrate. We shopped, enjoyed a nice meal, and my mother and I even put up with one another long enough to have our nails painted together. |
| To my mother – I am sorry for all the hard words these past few years. I love you Mama. I really do | To my mother – I am sorry for all the hard words these past few years. I love you Mama. I really do |
| Unsurprisingly, my mother still isn’t in the best of health; she’s often sick and still feels the effects of the strong medication that saved her life. Therefore it wasn’t surprising when she began to throw up after what had been a long day into a plastic bag on the way back to the car that evening. Other people throwing up makes me retch, so I walked ahead a little, leaving my poor father (as I usually do) to deal with the situation. I sat down to wait next to a group of friendly-looking students. Not realising that she was my mother, they started laughing and screaming in mock disgust with every convulsion her body endured. I stood dumbly beside them. They were laughing at a dying woman while her own body betrayed her and I did absolutely nothing. | Unsurprisingly, my mother still isn’t in the best of health; she’s often sick and still feels the effects of the strong medication that saved her life. Therefore it wasn’t surprising when she began to throw up after what had been a long day into a plastic bag on the way back to the car that evening. Other people throwing up makes me retch, so I walked ahead a little, leaving my poor father (as I usually do) to deal with the situation. I sat down to wait next to a group of friendly-looking students. Not realising that she was my mother, they started laughing and screaming in mock disgust with every convulsion her body endured. I stood dumbly beside them. They were laughing at a dying woman while her own body betrayed her and I did absolutely nothing. |
| I considered confronting them. But I didn’t. I could have tried to explain, or asked them to apologise, or even told them to stop – but my own cowardice and self-consciousness stopped me. I did not defend my mother against people who probably assumed she was drunk. Maybe if I were in their shoes, I’d have even joined in. | I considered confronting them. But I didn’t. I could have tried to explain, or asked them to apologise, or even told them to stop – but my own cowardice and self-consciousness stopped me. I did not defend my mother against people who probably assumed she was drunk. Maybe if I were in their shoes, I’d have even joined in. |
| As my mother approached the bin next to the crowd to throw away her bag of sick, they all ran off. “The austerity of it!” one particularly weasel-like student cried. “Audacity, you mean,” I muttered. | As my mother approached the bin next to the crowd to throw away her bag of sick, they all ran off. “The austerity of it!” one particularly weasel-like student cried. “Audacity, you mean,” I muttered. |
| I sat sourly in the car on the way home. I was angry with the students, but I was angrier with myself for letting them do it. I couldn’t work out why the incident had upset me so much. | I sat sourly in the car on the way home. I was angry with the students, but I was angrier with myself for letting them do it. I couldn’t work out why the incident had upset me so much. |
| Then it struck me. I cared about her. I loved her. Someone I loved was being hurt. I’m sure the two of us will continue to fight, but I’ll think again the next time I go to say something mean. Those students taught me in a moment what so many years of living with her illness had failed to do. I should appreciate and love my mother despite her flaws, and make sure that she knows it. Time with her has an expiry date. Time with all of our mothers does. | Then it struck me. I cared about her. I loved her. Someone I loved was being hurt. I’m sure the two of us will continue to fight, but I’ll think again the next time I go to say something mean. Those students taught me in a moment what so many years of living with her illness had failed to do. I should appreciate and love my mother despite her flaws, and make sure that she knows it. Time with her has an expiry date. Time with all of our mothers does. |
| To the students – Thank you for healing wounds I didn’t know I had. | To the students – Thank you for healing wounds I didn’t know I had. |
| To my mother – I am sorry for all the hard words these past few years. I love you Mama. I really do. | To my mother – I am sorry for all the hard words these past few years. I love you Mama. I really do. |