When I was in the...

 When I was in the second grade my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was 8 at the time and not really sure what that meant. Now being 14 years old I'm still not sure I understand entirely. My mom was always either at the hospital or sleeping because she was always tired. She was never up for weekend shopping trips, or going to hobby lobby to get gummy bears, like we've done since I can remember. It's hard being the kid at school whose parent is battling cancer. Honestly it’s a hard life. I had to take on responsibilities that most kids don't have to at such a young age. My father was busy at work and taking my mother to the hospital, most nights my brother, sister, and I had to fend for ourselves. 

            My mother went through 3 rounds of chemotherapy. And 3 rounds of radiation. I remember her loosing her hair, and she was never hungry. She got really skinny, and even I could tell that wasn't good. In October 2009 before school one day, my father told me that my mother only had a couple more months to live; that the doctors had done all they could. My mother had stopped responding to treatment. I still remember sitting on the front porch waiting for my ride to come pick me up, I was so young and I regret not reacting more, but I had no emotion. None. So I went on living life, aware that my mom was dying, but not fully understanding what that meant.

            On December 4, 2009 I went to school, like any other day. It was a Friday. I remember that day like it was yesterday. I was in the fifth grade and it was snowing outside. Snowing in Texas! I came home from school, said hi to all my relatives; they were all in town because my mother was on her deathbed. We had had nurses living with us the past week taking care of my mother. After I got home I went upstairs to go to the bathroom and when I came back down, I knew it had happened. My mother was gone. She had battled cancer for 3 horrible years and now she was at rest. She was no longer in pain, and I was happy to no longer see her suffer. I remembered my dad saying that it had stopped snowing and the sun came out because she was in heaven now.

            I was no longer the girl whose mom had cancer. I was the girl whose mom died. I miss my mom everyday. Its still hard everyday going to school and hearing “yo mom” jokes and people complain about how much they hate their mother, when they don’t even appreciate what they have.

            Last year, in seventh grade, my favorite teacher told me she got breast cancer. She battled breast cancer for almost a year and now she’s cured. I can’t help but be jealous of that family how their mom is still around while I’ve been without mine for 3 years. But I know there’s a reason God took my mom. I’ve had opportunities to share my story to people and raise awareness for breast cancer. That’s my goal in life. To raise breast cancer awareness and be able to share with young women how important it is to get yearly check ups. I want to share with people that me loosing my mom at such a young age has changed me, has matured me at a young age.

            I lost my mom when I was 11 years old. It hurts; as I sit here typing this my mascara is running down my face. No person should have to go through losing a parent at ANY age. One Bible verse that has always gotten me through rough times is Romans 5:3-4. “Not only so, but we rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; character, hope.” I’m hoping that this can make a small change in the world. That my story can change lives. And that’s why I’m sharing my story.