Until the age of 25, I thought that I had been through some serious stuff. I had gotten myself through depression. I had graduated from college. I had soldiered through the beginnings of a career. I had gotten a man to love me so much, that despite my many flaws he followed through on marrying me.
Then I got the call from my dad. My mom was in the hospital. Her body was too weak to fight off infections, due to a long-standing autoimmune condition. Never before had this required her to be admitted to a hospital, and though she did come home from time to time, she never really left. She never got better.
After that phone call, I went to my garage under the guise of doing laundry. I sat down in that annex of my garage and cried, and cried. For the next 15 months, I only slept while medicated, was irritable to most everyone, and would cry at everything.
When she did pass, it was difficult, but from that moment on I could start healing. It was all uphill from there.Her sickness just kept going and getting worse. There was always new bad news.
We are given struggles for a reason. I can honestly say that I’m a stronger, better, more understanding and caring person because of this horrible time in my life. My mom is in a better place now, and that makes me very happy.