losing my mom and not letting myself mourn

then one day, in 2015, while I was sitting at the dinner table, my mom started crying. I'd never seen her cry before, unless me or my sister were crying. I was so shocked to see my mom like that, that I just stared at her. I eventually asked her what's wrong, and she told me her stomach hurt. 

she went to the doctor, who said it wasn't a big deal and told her to take some painkillers and come back in 2 weeks if she was still hurting.

the pain didn't go away, so my mom was sent to a hospital for a checkup. me and my sister stayed home and our dad called us that afternoon. he told me my mom had cancer and that my aunt will come to pick me and my sister up to go to the hospital. I hang up the phone and told my sister. she immediately started crying, which is a normal reaction. but I didn't cry. I couldn't cry. I was in the middle of a deep depression and was completely numb. 

I walked into the hospital and saw my mom and dad. I'd never seen my dad cry before either, but his eyes were red and his cheeks had tear streaks on them. I don't remember much else of that day. 

I pretended my mom wasn't sick. I avoided any talks about chemotherapy or doctor's appointments, because i was scared I couldn't handle it. my mom never said anything about it, only told me to not worry about it. one time I asked her how she was doing after she picked me up from therapy, and she said she is fine as long as I'd be fine too. she still went to my therapy sessions even when she was sick, she still went to school to talk with my teachers, she still drove me to my friend's house even if she had chemo that day. 

I made my mom cry a lot. I did some things that really hurt her, things I never would've done if I wasn't depressed at the time.

and then on May 5th 2017, the doctors said there was nothing they could do anymore. I went upstairs and sat in my room. my mom knocked on my door and asked me if I was okay. I just said yes. and I felt sick to my stomach that she asked me if I was fine instead of me asking her if she was fine.

she lost a lot of weight quickly, she lost her hair, and her energy. but she still asked people if they wanted something to drink or eat when they came over, even if she couldn't get up from her bed. 

I watched the strongest, most hardworking person I've ever met, turn into a weak, tired and broken shell of a human. my dad told me to hug my mom and tell her I loved her which I hadn't done in so long, and so I did on May 30th. 

on May 31st my mom said she didn't wanna fight anymore, that she was exhausted and couldn't do it anymore. I went to therapy that day and my psychologist drove me home after my dad called to tell me my mom would die any minute.

I didn't cry when she took her final breath, I didn't cry when they came to pick her up, and I didn't cry during her funeral. not because I wasn't sad, but because I didn't wanna give myself to comfort of grieving or mourning. because I wasn't there for her. I didn't do enough. I never supported her, I only made her cry and stressed whenever I'd do something stupid again. 

I couldn't think about my mom without seeing the image of her crying when she had found out what I did at school or therapy or online. I was so ashamed of myself, I hated myself. I didn't let myself grief her because I didn't love her properly. 

my biggest fear was that I made her sick. that the stress she felt because of me, caused her to grow a tumor. they say stress is a killer after all.

i didn't talk about my mom to anyone. it was like she never existed or that I didn't even miss her. 

this lasted for about 5 years. when I was 22, I suddenly cried when I thought about my mom. I remembered the bad stuff, but also some pleasant memories. I don't know what causes the sudden shift, but I started grieving her and digging up memories I'd hidden for years.

I remember holding her hand one of the last days she was alive. she told me she loved me and that I should never forget that, that I shouldn't let anyone take advantage of my softness and of how forgiving I am, and that I should always be proud of my Mexican heritage. 

I remember coming home every day from elementary school and telling her about my day. I remember her cupping my cheek and telling me how expressive my eyes were, which is why my eyes are my favorite part of myself till this day, I remember her telling me to stand up straight because she loved how tall I was (I'm not that tall, average, but she was 153cm, so anyone was tall compared to her), I remember her boasting to her friends and family how smart me and my sister were, I remember sometimes driving her crazy with my shenanigans as a child, but not being able to contain her laugh as she tried to scold me. 

it's gonna be 8 years since she passed this year and it doesn't get any easier. I lost my mom while being suicidal and depressed, she never saw me happy again. her last memory of me was being sad.

there's always gonna be a hole in my heart, no matter how happy I am. she's not gonna be here for so many things. she didn't see me getting happy and wanting to live again, she didn't see me taking my first driving lesson (good thing I failed for my driving exam cause she would've missed that too lol), she's not gonna meet my boyfriend, she's not gonna see me get married or have kids. 

but I know she's watching over me. I feel her presence sometimes. I remember one night I was so exhausted, scared and tired of living. I asked her if I was gonna be okay, and I felt someone hugging me even though there was no one in the room with me. a butterfly landed on my hand when I asked if that was a message from my mom. during my travels, anytime I'd feel scared I'd see my mom's favorite bird, and I knew I'd be safe. 

everyone I love will know who she was, who she is. and I hope they'll tell me I look like her. I'm just doing anything I can to make her proud, so I'm trying my all to continue being happy and healthy, cause that's all she wanted for me.

this world was never meant for someone as beautiful as her, she belongs in heaven. some people never have the luck to have had a mother like I have, so I'm just grateful to have felt a love like that and I'll carry that love with me the rest of my life, until I can give it to my children, so they'll feel her love as well.