Dear Mom,
Around this time last year, I was in a different state from you, just like I am now. Except then I was at home while you were about 90 miles away in a hospital bed. Today, you are at home, and I am about 400 miles away from you at college. Last year, I didn’t know if you were going to survive, and even now, thinking about it 365 days later, makes me so upset that I don’t know how to put it into words. I sat in that hospital waiting room for hours upon hours with no word about how you were doing after your surgery and went to bed not knowing what kind of condition you would be in the next morning. A lot of people don’t survive the brain surgery you had, and even more people are impacted by neurological damage. Watching you on life support was the scariest thing that I have ever seen before. This entire experience just put my entire life in perspective. You were fine 48 hours before your brain aneurysm, and then suddenly, I was getting the call that you were in the hospital because you had had a headache and something wasn’t right. You taught me to be grateful for every day on earth and to live life to the fullest because it can all change in a heartbeat.
You are the strongest person I know. Sometimes I wonder if you are a cat and have nine lives because you have survived so much. The day of your brain aneurysm, you told me that even though you weren’t feeling the greatest, you were going to try to go to work later because that’s the type of person you are. Whenever I would visit you at the hospital, you worried about my brother, father and me more than yourself. There you were, sitting in the ICU room at the hospital, upset that you weren’t able to go to my school’s open house for the parents. You were so stubborn in the hospital too because you would never ask for help and would always try to do everything yourself. Even though I reprimanded you constantly for being stubborn while visiting you at the hospital, I knew this meant that you were OK because that’s how you always are.
It is tragic circumstances like my family’s that brings a community and family together. My neighbors, family friends and large extended family created a meal train that went on for several weeks. Many of my mom and dad’s friends drove the hour-and-a-half distance, one-way, to visit my mom. My uncle flew across the country to stay with my younger brother and me while our dad was staying in a hotel to be near my mom. My aunt chauffeured us to and from the hospital and stayed with us when my dad was gone too. My teachers were understanding and helped me catch up on the schoolwork that I missed. My friends were amazing and were there to support me through this entire ordeal. My dad got time off work to be at my mom’s side. My mom’s boss and her co-workers were incredibly helpful and encouraging. One of my mom’s friends even helped me with the college process. I don’t know if I would be where I am today without her help. This experience made me realize how many people love you, Mom, and that no matter what happened, we would never be alone.
Every day I am grateful for you being a part of my life. You are always there when I need someone to talk to. You are the same person you were a year ago; you just have a titanium coil inside of your brain now. I love you so much from so many miles away. It’s really difficult being away from you, especially at this time of the year on the anniversary of your aneurysm. But I can’t wait to see you in a few weeks and tell you all about my new life at Providence College!
Love,
Maddie
