At my mother's bedside.....

   I would have to say I have the greatest Mom any daughter can ask for. I'm truly blessed. The other night, my parents were spending the night at my house so we could take my Dad to his cardiologist and nuerologist doctor appointments. He's in kidney and heart failure and keeping him alive requires our family's fullest effort. My Dad left early. Leaving my Mom and I to spend Friday night together. We decided to make a trip to our favorite casino, where we spend time together.. laughing, talking, and cheering. It's always a good time. But this time, there was something about the drive that broke me down. I started sobbing in the car during our 50 mile drive. I felt this overwhelming sadness. I was angry. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. I was tired of being in pain. And I was exhausted from not wanting to close my eyes because the reality of the invisible knives becomes real. I told my Mom how hard it was to be in pain everyday. Knowing she would understand because she's dealt with 10+ major surgeries and ulcerative colitis her entire life.. she knows what pain is. But there's something about it eating away at your soul, your spirit, and the person you know you could be without the pain. I cried wanting her to fix it all, or say something to make me realize that I can do this. And she did. She let me cry. And held my hand in the middle of our nowhere drive to the casino. It happened to be the worst day I've had in a long time. And instead of telling me things I've heard a million times like "you're strong, you can do this", she simply reacted as any great mom would do by consoling me and letting me be angry. Because she knew I would infact regain the strength I have lingering in the depths of me and carry on as I always do. And the strength I have, comes from her. My personality she says is just like my Dad's. But what she doesn't realize is she's the strongest person I've ever known. Around fourteen years old, I realized this while watching her in a hospital bed, suffering, fighting for her life. She was in agony, in pain I would never be able to relate to. She was miserable, fighting for something wonderful. I walked the hospital 1,000 times reflecting on the events taking place. When I turned fifteen, it was the same situation. And I couldn't understand why these things were happening. I was angry. I turned to alcohol. It took over my life. I kept these secrets from my mom, because she was already suffering trying to live. I had this anger inside of me because there was nothing I could do as a fifteen year old. I went everyday for three years off and on while she was in the hospital. I watched her fight for years. I watched her strength come into play. I watched her longing to live, regardless of the events that were taking place, or the events to come. These were the hardest years of my life. I would take this pain again, if it meant never having to see my mom in that hospital bed again. I would take it in a heartbeat. When I was seventeen, I realized I wanted more out of my life. And as hard as my mom fought for her life, I should be living mine to the fullest. I decided to quit drinking, and move away to school. I wanted to do something with my life. When I quit drinking which was the hardest thing I've ever done, I got Shingles. So when something bad finally leaves your life, you expect something good to come. But the way I see it, I'm better of being in chronic pain, rather than being self-destructive. That was four years ago. And on this cold San Diego morning, I gather my thoughts so I can make it through the day. As a young person in chronic pain, I still feel truly blessed. I have more than most people I know and I have a heart that is truly strong when it needs to be. I'm lucky.   Oh and five minutes after I walked into the casino.... I won $1,200. Go figure the worst day, can always turn into the best.