A story of survival...

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Last night I watched as my Mom was chatting to my cousin. They were making plans for my Aunt’s tombstone unveiling this coming weekend. My Aunt, who was a ray of sunshine and always full of energy, lost her battle to cancer in 2011. Hearing them making plans and working out the final details of the day, made me feel sad but also so grateful. I was grateful that I still had my Mother. I almost did not have her today.
In December of 2003, my parents and I went to my high school for our annual Thanks Giving Mass. It was just before schools closed for the year. This was a special mass though. My friends and I all passed and would be in Grade 12 the following year. It was what we had been waiting for for years. So that night we gave thanks and went home. In the middle of the night, I was awakened by my Dad. He had a look on his face I had never seen before. He was worried. He was scared. My Father was scared. That was something I had never experienced before. He told me to get dressed; we were taking my Mom to the hospital. Without asking any questions, I did as I was told. Soon, my Dad’s eldest brother and his wife arrived and we all drove to the hospital. Upon arrival, my Mom was taken to the emergency room. We waited for what seemed like hours until the Dr finally arrived and told us that my Mom had a heart attack and if we had waited any longer, she would not have made it. That night, my Dad cried. It was the first time I saw him cry. It broke me.
The weekend had passed and my Mom was still in the hospital. On the 15th day of December, my Dad and I were eager to get to the hospital. It was a special day. It was their wedding anniversary. As we walked into her room, we saw that she was still asleep. I went over to her bed and touched her hand, but she never woke up. I squeezed it; still she did not open her eyes. The Dr soon arrived to tell us that my Mom had a stroke in her sleep and that the one side of her body was paralyzed. I was not ready for this news. I wanted good news. I needed good news.
My Mom was eventually discharged, but it was not an easy time. We had to help her walk, she was learning to talk again, and we had to feed her. She could not do anything.
Soon January approached and I had to say farewell to my brother. He died. Just the year before I had lost my sister. The news wasn’t getting better. Things were getting worse. I had to stay strong though. I had to stay strong for my Mom. I just did not know how long I could be strong. But I was sure He would carry me through.
With time and a whole lot of patience, things did get better. My Mom was walking again, she could feed herself and she could talk. She was making a full recovery. I realized then what a strong Woman she truly was. Not many people were able to overcome what she did. She was a fighter. She was my Heroine. She was my example of a strong Woman. She was the star in my survival story.
Last night while my Mom was talking to my cousin, making plans for my Aunt’s tombstone unveiling, I realized that I could have easily been my cousin ten years ago and lost my Mom at the age of 17. I could have been making plans to unveil her tombstone. I realized how blessed I was. I still had my Heroine with me. I could still appreciate her and show her how much she means to be. I could still do things my cousin wished she could do with her Mom. I did not feel worthy, but I knew I still had time with her and that I would never waste any of it again.
What will you do with the time you have been given?
I am grateful and blessed beyond measure. There is no way I am wasting any of the time I have been blessed with.
Be thankful. Always.

Take Care

Miss Stone

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