Hey, let me tell you what’s been going on honestly, it’s been a rollercoaster. When I was seventeen, my dad passed away. Mum was left working two jobs just to keep us afloat, and we were scraping by on pennies. We saved money wherever we could; honestly, things like fruit and chocolate only turned up in the house at Christmas, never at any other time of year. I never wanted to trouble Mum for anything, so I tried to earn a bit myself, just to keep things going. Ive got a younger sister, too, and the three of us did everything we could so she wouldnt feel like she was missing out.
But Dads death wasnt the end of our troubles. Not even close. Mum had a stroke and ended up in hospital, and after that, she couldnt walk anymore. She got some disability allowance from the government, but it barely got us through the month. It was tough, but I tried to keep believing things would turn around.
I had to give up uni and became the sole breadwinner for the family. Looking after Mum and my sister was no walk in the park. People often offered to help, but I always said no. Before the stroke, Mum had been such a warm and honest person. But afterwards, she changed so much.
She started complaining all the time first about her bad luck, then about my sister and me. Nothing we did seemed right: we cooked the wrong meals, never cleaned thoroughly enough, or spent too much money on ourselves.
I tried to brush off her constant nagging, knowing she was ill and it wasnt really her fault. But it still hurt. I was doing everything for her, and she just didnt seem to appreciate any of it. My friends kept suggesting I hire a nurse for Mum and find a better job. There were places I could earn more, but it would mean leaving Mum without my help. I couldnt bring myself to do it I mean, Mum has two daughters; how could I hand her care over to a complete stranger?
Her complaints got more frequent, and shed give us grief for every little purchase, even though we were pinching pounds wherever we could.
I kept my mouth shut for ages, just trying to be patient. But then, something happened that changed everything for me. I got ill horrible headache, fever, coughing, the works.
I couldnt sleep at all, and in the morning, I decided I had to see the GP. My little sister saw the state I was in, got ready for school, hugged me, and pleaded with me not to put off seeing the doctor. Mum, of course, just said I didnt need any treatment said I was young and my body would fight it off. She claimed she was in a far worse situation and needed more money. According to her, Id blow all our cash on medical tests only to find out it was just a common cold. She accused me of not caring about her and said I wanted her dead.
Listening to all that, I couldnt help but cry quietly. Honestly, Id run out of energy. For Mums sake, Id given up uni and stuck with tough jobs, even though I had other options. I guess I was so drained by it all that I finally snapped at her and told her exactly how I felt.
Turns out, the doctors tests showed I had pneumonia. He wanted me to stay in hospital for treatment, but that wasnt an option with Mum and my sister depending on me. So I bought the meds I needed and went over to my friend Emilys flat.
Emily let me in and scolded me for wandering about instead of staying in bed under a duvet. We talked for hours, and I just poured my heart out about Mum and asked her to help find a nurse. I also needed somewhere to stay I just couldnt live at home anymore.
Emily said I could stay with her for a bit and suggested I go back for essentials.
When I got home, Mum went absolutely mad the second I walked through the door. She wasnt worried about my health, just obsessed with money again. I gave her some food and went to my room to rest, knowing I wasnt going to live there anymore.
Emily came through for me quick she found a nurse and let me move in with her. I switched jobs, and now I dont visit Mum anymore. Maybe I seem heartless, but I honestly did everything I could for her. She never once thanked me. Was it even worth it? Who knows. All I know is, my futures still ahead.
Every month, I send money for Mum and pay the nurse I even send more than is needed, just to be sure. Victoria, the nurse, says Mum remembers us less and less these days. She doesnt remember our birthdays, even though my sister and I still send cards. But thats not really the key thing, is it? I found a new job, and soon my sister and I are going to get our own place together. Shes always been my support, and says, Youve got to take care of your parents, but not when theyre slowly destroying you.That advice stuck with me. My sister and I started planning, dreaming, decoratingmaking a space that belonged to us. We painted the walls yellow. We bought fruit just because we wanted it, and chocolate whenever we felt like celebrating. There were days when memories choked me and I felt guilt clawing at my chest, but slowly, the weight eased. My sister and I laughed more. Sometimes, we cried together about Mum, but it was different nowit wasnt pain, it was release.
One morning, as sunlight streamed through our window, my sister made tea and handed me a cup. We made it out, she said, and I realized she was right. We didnt just survive. We grew wings in the storm.
Mums voice faded into the past, but our own became stronger. What stayed with me wasnt all the hurtit was the fact that, even when everything seemed lost, we found a way to hope. And hope, in the end, was enough.
