Dear Mom,
By my writings so far, I don’t want you to think that I’m overtly depressed. I have far more good days than I do bad, so you shouldn’t worry – although I’m sure you can see that. You can also see that I have a lot of time on my hands, so I have to fill my days somehow. The last three years of my life has been odd to say the least. I’m a little disappointed it has taken me this long to wake up from my stupor, but in my defense, I didn’t plan on being out of work like this. I knew my health was getting rocky when I turned twenty eight however I never thought it would stop me in my tracks. Sometimes I find it hard to think back on the last few years before the pandemic. The medication I’m on makes everything beyond 2020 a bit hazy – not to mention the multiple emergencies I’ve had so far and that scary moment where I thought I was about to meet you far sooner than I had anticipated.
It reminded me of the last few days of my chemotherapy. You warned me, the doctors warned me – yet I was still surprised by how intense the last round was. For me, I’ve had this memory of being stricken by fear, a whole lot of tears and pain, and this deep gutted feeling that I had died for a minute there. I could verify all this by looking at my records, but like I mentioned before, I’m a little scared to read through the notes. Having a spotty memory about that time in my life feels far better. I worry about being haunted by whatever those records will dig out of my subconscious. I’ve been in therapy for roughly a year now, and I hadn’t even dived into that part of my life until recently. My surgery back in November, the myomectomy done for the fibroids growing on my uterus, practically dragged me – kicking and screaming – to those unwanted memories. Waking up from that procedure had me in a pain that could only be compared to the suffering I went through at the end of my chemo. Even after all that, I’m only plagued by my tears and vague images of those days (or maybe hours?) and I sometimes find it hard to believe that I went through that as a fourteen year old girl (was I still thirteen?).
Whenever I think back to my teenage years, I realize – now with the eyes of an adult – why I couldn’t relate to people my age. Most of them were getting their first crushes or freaking out about the new Destiny Child’s CD while I was going through hell in a room separated from everyone and anyone my age because the chemo stripped my immune system down to the bone. I couldn’t even see the only friend I had because any little illness could kill me. Which sucked because I was looking forward to the Winter festival MSK was holding for the pediatrics ward. It was Christmas, and it was the first time I wasn’t able to see you deck the house up in all the traditional stuff you had. I remember missing the little Christmas town you’d build, but I never said anything because I knew you were already sad. You can’t exactly celebrate the holidays with two of your main family members going through cancer, and nobody was allowed over in order to protect me and grandma. You know, I never thought about it until now, but you must have been so alone. It breaks my heart to think that you had no one to lean on. No one to comfort you while your mother and your youngest daughter went through their own versions of Hell.
If only I can help honor you in some way for the holidays. Just to make up for the fact that you couldn’t even celebrate your last one…
I had intended on this one to be a little more light hearted, but I guess that’s difficult to do with how much sadness sits in my history with you. With that being said, I’m going to take this opportunity to flip the mood. I may not be in a favorable living situation at the moment, but that doesn’t stop me from being grateful that I’m with the people I cherish as the year comes to a close. While my heart still aches over the lost of my furry friend, Jinx, it is hard to remain sad in a room with my best friend and my husband. They never fail to make me laugh, and the days are just a bit brighter with their company.
We might not be doing anything special this year, but I’m sure you’ll love to know that they took me to the American Dream Mall on a very foggy day, and we went on the highest Ferris wheel I have ever been on so far. To say I was scared is an understatement but given that it is exactly a year ago since this event, I can’t help but laugh now. We saw absolutely nothing of worth yet being in that tall wheel on a foggy day was a bit magical and fun (the picture hardly captures it). I’m sure you’re delighted by all the adventures I have with these two idiots. If it wasn’t for them, I’d probably be at home by my lonesome and doing something extraordinarily mundane.
With 2024 so close, I want to take this opportunity to wish for more adventures, and more memories to make with my little make shift family. First, we need a place to live because while I adore these fools to the ends of the earth – I might kill them before the next year is up.
Look over us, mom, and make our wishes come true. Happy New Years,
Sabey
Comments