The Power of a Mother
My grandmother raised me from the day I was born, and she was my life, my best friend, and the biggest supporter of my life. Even though my darkest moments in hell, she felt helpless and hopeless that I would ever change from the self-destructive past that I was living. You see, I didn’t want to live. I didn’t want to face the trauma of my life, but I had no idea how to get out of that lifestyle. It was a great distraction and, in turn, a coping mechanism from being raped and the numerous abusive boyfriends and men I encountered in that dark underworld that many have no clue about. Yet, every time I said I was done, she had hope, and she gave love and support, but of course, I would make more significant mistakes, and I can remember her just patting my face and stating, “There is no way I could walk your path.” When I finally committed to a life of recovery and focused on my spiritual health, she saw the difference and knew I would be ok. Then the day came, and the doctors told me there was nothing else they could do for her. They told her, and she didn’t understand and just stared at me. I ran out of the room crying and screaming, thinking this couldn’t happen. I can’t lose the only person I trust and love! Not now! After I screamed and threw a fit outside the hospital, I came back into her room, explaining what the doctor meant. That there was nothing medically could be done, her insurance had reached the max, and medicare wasn’t going to pay for it anymore. She looked at me and said it would be ok, and all I could say was I miss you! She wanted me to know that no matter what happens, life will be ok, and I will survive, but I didn’t.
I can remember the day she passed; I was at work because everyone wouldn’t work for me to spend time with her. I didn’t see her because it would be super late after two buses and two trains to get home. Later that night, there was a knock on the door from Garland Police stating that she had passed. I can remember just falling to the ground and just dying inside. The days after were a blur, the funeral arrangements and the amazing friends that showed up to support me during that time. Yet, I was so broken I even tried walking out in front of a moving train but was stopped by a homeless man, who told me it was not worth it. There is more for you! My biggest motivator, protector, and strength had left me.
THE DEPRESSION
For years after that, I suffered from depression, and at the same time, all the memories of the past would flood my brain, and I would suffer seizures under great stress. I had panic attacks, mood issues, and all-around hated everyone. I would go to meetings, hear nonsense stating that “feelings aren’t facts,” and try to distract my life with school, insanely cleaning, sleeping, and just plain avoidance. I suffered for seven years of this PTSD/Anxiety disorder that the 12 steps DID NOT HELP WITH. Plus, it didn’t help to be dating an abusive boyfriend simultaneously.
THE KATCHI (As my son would call her) :)
When my grandmother/adopted mom died, I became close with my biological mother. She loved her family and kids, and most of the time, she was the kindest person in the World. I think tempers run in our family! It was great to spend time with her, she was like a sister to me, and we could talk on the phone for hours and hours. She allowed me to complain, cry, and have great conversations. However, in late July of 2021, she called me, stating that she needed to go to the ER. I can still see my son helping her down the stairs.
When we got there, her oxygen levels were at 40%, and she told me she thought she was dying. Of course, I pulled my grandmother’s last statement to me, “It will be ok.” Three days later, she was on a CT machine and stopped breathing, and was immediately intubated, which she never woke up from. On Friday night, Aug 6th, I woke up straight out of my bed and sat in confusion. Ten minutes later, the hospital said I needed to get there because she was beginning the transition to an ever life. I saw so many machines just keeping her alive till my brother and Uncle got there. I would hold her hand all day and slowly see them turn blue. I knew she had already left. Yet she held on for her son. She had seizures for hours, and I sat there all alone. Nobody was there! When my brother and Uncle showed up, it was such a shock to them in the state she was in, and when we decided it was time to unplug life support, I sat in the chair watching everyone. I thought this would be the last moment; I would see her in the flesh.
THE OVERCOMING
For months, again, I was angry and avoided people, distracted myself, and slept a lot. The depression and anxiety were at it’s worst. I was like tenderized meat. I could barely leave the house; the thought of people would drive me to my bed to sleep, cry, and not want to be here anymore. Until one night, I had a crying moment so bad that I thought my soul was leaving my body. My son came in and sat with me, and he gently said, “Mom, you are not ok!” You need to talk to someone. It was that one phrase where I told myself I was ok, I can do this, I will figure it out, but sometimes you need help. I found a great psychiatrist and therapist, and the Victim Impact Program has helped me work through the pain and trauma of my life. They understood that what was said in the recovery rooms was only a portion of the truth. Thoughts are not facts; instead, feelings are underlying emotions, an experience that can cause significant harm to a person’s psyche. Days are getting better, I am not so grumpy, and I can sit down for almost a whole movie. It is a work in progress.
The whole purpose is to show that death, grief, sadness, and overwhelming thoughts happen. It is part of life, and often we will use coping mechanisms to get us through those moments. However, at some point, we must face our traumas head-on, so we are no longer self-destructive and self-sabotaging our only life.
My mothers were the best two women in my life, and I treasure them because they were strong single women who encountered pain, grief, and loss and still shined brightly. I will miss you every day of my life.
