Life Is No Game, All You Get Is A Turn

My mom was a simple, kind and loving woman. She was also very intelligent, but of course I did not fully realize this, until the day I could no longer ask her advice and guidance.

I was 17 when she was diagnosed with cancer. It was a terrible shock, but I never fully grasped the complete extent of the situation back then. I knew exactly what cancer was and how serious it is, but the realization that my mother was going to die, didn't hit me at all. So she had an operation, everything went well, she had her chemotherapy, didn't lose any hair, and the voice in the back of my mind grew louder and more certain: your mother could not possibly die. Two years passed and everything was well, but then of course, the
cancer returned. With a new vengeance. This time it was in the brain, the realization hit us all a lot harder than before. But still we were positive, I mean, what else can you be in these kinds of situations. Again she went for the, somewhat, more delicate operation, and somehow everything had gone well again. Of course she had lost her hair this time, and she was never quite the same after, I mean, having your brain tampered with is bound to have an effect. But still, she was alive and well and even more cheerful than usual. I don't know exactly when the cancer returned for the third time, my mother seemed to have known she wouldn't be so lucky again. To us, she had seemed fine up until her final months of living, and only afterwards did we find out exactly how much she had kept hidden from us. A blessing it was perhaps that I did not have to watch my mother suffer for too long, but the fact remains that I was in shock at her death, even though she had the sickness for four years. Even in those final hours, she was in so much pain, but whenever the nurse asked her, she would say "it's under control" despite her body twitching. And so her death ripped our family apart. It was just as bad watching my dad suffer, left with a void, the light and love of his life, gone. I guess he couldn't take it anymore, knowing that me and my brother would, in the future, go our separate ways. He committed suicide six months later. A family of four, reduced to two, in a time span of six months. I never want to go to another funeral ever again. I am not even angry at my dad. He was a great man, and if anything, he deserved this one selfish deed.

It's almost two years ago that my mom passed away. My brother
and I are still haunted by the destruction of this sickness, but at least we are alive and breathing.
TidalSurge TidalSurge
22-25, M
Dec 16, 2012