Part one
There’s gonna be a lot of talk about my mother through this blog. A Lot of you may draw your own conclusions about her from what you read. It may seem like she didn’t love me. It may seem like she wasn’t a good mom. But that isn’t true at all. I know she loved me with all her heart and she was an amazing mom for the time I was able to spend with her. She was my best friend. She taught me so much in the short time we had together. Her death left a whole in me that I’m still trying to heal now. She loved me like I needed to be loved. She saw me for who I was and that was good enough for her. She told me how much she loved me. She never made me feel bad about myself. When I was too hard on myself she was always there to help. She didn’t play when it came to school and respect. Everything else was fair game.
When I think of my mom the first thing that comes to my mind is love. She always did whatever she could to make me feel loved. I’m not gonna sit here and tell you that my faith in her love wasn’t tested, because it was. Everyday we weren’t together made me question it, but she would show up or do something that would restore my faith in that love.
Let’s start from as far back as i can remember. My mom has always been my best friend for as long as I can remember. When I was little I was her shadow. I always had to go or, I always had to be wherever she was. In my eyes she was just this bright light and I needed that light to shine on me. I used to pretend to be sick whenever I had school so she could come pick me up. Just so I could spend time with her. I remember she used to dress me just like her whenever possible and we would go out. I would try to walk like her. I would answer questions the way I thought she would. I wanted to be just like my mom.
Looking back now I can see that there was a problem and she needed help, but when you’re five and this is all you know everything seems perfectly fine. My mom used to leave us home alone a lot. Sometimes it was a few hours and sometimes it was a few days. Never really bothered me until I started getting hungry. Sometimes we were able to find food in the house to eat and sometimes there wasn’t anything to eat. So we would have to figure out how to feed ourselves. In my mind this was what you did when you were my age. It got so bad that the guy in the chinese restaurant knew me. I used to go there to get six chicken wings and fries.I don’t ever remember her asking how or even if we had eaten when she was gone for so long. Maybe she asked my brother but she never asked me. In my heart she knew she was hurting us and that’s why I believe she sent us to live with my grandmother(my dad’s mom).
The night she realized she had to give me up for good, I could see the hurt in her eyes. I could hear the pain in her voice when she was saying goodbye. I could feel something in me breaking. I knew this time would be different. My head told me there was no going back after that moment, but my heart wouldn’t let me believe. As I watched my mother walk away without me she took my heart with her. I never thought it was possible to hurt that much. The pain radiated through my whole body. It made me feel sick. She had left me and there was nothing I could do about it.
I remember taking every chance I could to go look for my mother after that. Whenever my grandma would send us to the store I would go looking in places that she would hangout. I used to walk in buildings asking whoever I saw if they saw my mother. I was a child on a mission and I didn’t care about how much danger I was in. I was in these buildings stepping over needles and crack heads. Turning people over making sure it wasn’t her. I was hoping that if I told her I was living in hell she would keep me, or even if she looked in my eyes and saw my pain it would change her mind. Sometimes I would find her, and sometimes I wouldn’t but that never stopped me. I loved her and I would walk through hell to get to her.
A Moment in my TRUTH 