I Was so Glad My Mother Didn’t Essay Example

to this carnival. ” I shouted at my mother. Several months had passed by my father’s death. “No Jane, you’ll have to go. You know that your father would not have liked it. ” “No mother, I don’t know.

Dad’s dead, isn’t he? It doesn’t matter if he agreed to a thing or not. ” But after all my futile efforts my mother forced me to go to the school carnival as she believed that social interaction was good for me. Most of my teenage years went by like this. I settling at one thing and my mother defying it every time. I did not realize that all that she had been doing for me was for my betterment, out of her sheer love for me, till that cold November day of 1996. “Mom I am home. ” I announced my arrival.

I made my way to the kitchen where I usually found my mother at this hour. There, by the left open refrigerator door lay my mother. Trembling. By her side were pieced of a bowl which had fallen from her hands. I didn’t know what to do. I called the hospital. My mother was diagnosed for epilepsy. The doctor informed me that it would be fairly common for me to see my mother become unconscious. “Medicines will help but not a great extent. We will try our best. But you know it is already too late. She doesn’t have much time. ” Dr. Richards said. This news shocked me and I believed that my mother would have broken down too. Yet when I saw her, there was no difference. There in front of me sat

my mother the way I had always remembered her, though a little weaker and paler. She wanted to go back home. She urged me to go return to college and complete my Bachelors in Architecture. She wanted me to go on and I did. The doctor continued with their medication at our home. At times the process was painful for her but she still looked at me with a smile on her face.

At times I would find her silently crying at night. This was my mother, who inaudibly bore her sufferings and despite the fact that she herself had so many problems, she was always there for mine. I became an architect. My mother became an epileptic. I was so glad that my mother didn’t give up. Neither on herself or on me. Until that gray December day when she surrendered. The muffled snow fall jolted me out of my reverie. I know that its time to leave. As I walked towards the gate I glanced at that faded stone grave of the person who made me who I am, my mother.