Wheres Mommy?As a young child, I used to wake up every morning, run to the front of my grandmothers house, and sit in the sun that was beaming through her glass door. From that spot on the floor, I could see both the TV in the living room and the cars in the driveway outside. Sitting at that window was my everyday routine; a routine which turned into a painful memory.
My mother had bipolar/paranoia schizophrenia, a concept that i did not understand as a kid. Because of my moms illness, my grandma had my mom, me and my sister living at her house. One day the cops had to come to the house and take my mother away because she was trying to kill herself. I watched as they pulled her to their car and drove away. I was so sad, i cried all day in my grandmas arms.
However the next morning, when i went to the front door, my moms car was there! i jumped up and ran to her room, flinging open the door. I was so excited to see her! I was so ready to hug her and kiss her and tell her i loved her! "Mommy!" i yelled in excitement..... but she wasn't there. The bed was empty with no mommy inside.
I had forgotten that the cops picked her up with their car, so her car was still in the driveway. I was so devastated. It was like re-losing her all over again. But being so young, i had a short memory span. So the next morning when i woke up and saw her car in the driveway, I again thought she was home. Yet again, i was heartbroken as i looked upon her lifeless bed. Over and over I would get excited... and over and over i would realize that my mommy wasn't there.