December time, Christmas time.
To me it has always been a time that should be filled with joy but what do you do when the happiness it is meant to bring is lost?
As a child I used to think Christmas was the most magical time of the year… Nothing bad could ever happen around Christmas time, I was wrong.
“It’s not long to go now,” the doctors kept saying, “enjoy the time you have left,” how can you enjoy the time you have left with someone if every time you see them they just keep getting worse, how are you supposed to sit there and look them in the eyes and say it’s going to be okay when you know it really isn’t going to be? You know it will never be okay again?
I guess we deceive ourselves in a way, to protect ourselves from reality. It gives us a little bit of hope to hold on to when we fear there is no hope left. We find ourselves praying when we aren’t even religious trying to bargain with god to change things, to make things okay.
The hardest part is when we find reality. Coming to terms with the fact that it could be any second, but I suppose that’s how it goes… life and death go hand in hand, at least I will have a chance to say goodbye I tell myself, that is better than nothing.
I see people on the streets and in houses arguing with their parents, putting them down, cursing them and yelling at them over the stupidest things. It’s moments like this I wonder was I like that? Did I ever do that? Why didn’t I tell her I loved her more? The regret I feel now is overbearing. Why didn’t I try that little bit harder to make her happy? Why couldn’t I just deal with the food she cooked without complaining?
I miss now more than ever her cooking, never quite right… either a bit burned or a bit raw, either way… it was made by her and I would give every single meal I am ever to eat in the future away for one last meal by her.
The things I would give to go back and do things again.
To be grateful for what I had, to say thank you for everything she did for me.
I guess that old saying is true you never know what you have until it’s gone.
She is still alive fighting against the malignant cancer that is slowly taking her.
She isn’t the same as she used to be. But she is my mother.
She is the reason for my existence, she is my protector, she is my rock, and she is what matters the most to me, and always has been.
If I had another chance I would tell her that every day. I have a lot of hope and I may not be religious but I pray, and I still believe it will be okay.
This article by Hayley Lincoln, from Lake Illawara High School, was the Year 11/12 Runner Up in What Matters? 2009
What Matters? is a writing competition, run by The Whitlam Institute, that gives year 5-12 students in NSW and ACT a chance to say what matters in society today. For more information go to: http://www.whitlam.org/whitlam/index.php
