The New Champion
Without getting into too much specific detail, I have lost a lot in the previous year and even into this year.
My mom spoke to an acquaintance the other day while I was present—she used the word “terminal” in regard to her cancer. It hit me harder than I could display on my face or express with words. My mom is The Champion and will always be.
I spent some time in the hospital battling a deep depression from experiencing blow after blow.
At first when I entered the hospital, I cried. I fell to my knees and wept over the stat of my life. I wept over how isolated I felt—I had no one to hear me for a while. I certainly had no one to speak to while inpatient. I did not have access to my phone. But even if I did, I did not have anyone to reach out to. The sadness was disorienting and severe.
I thought about my mom often while inpatient. I thought back to last year when she was in the ICU at the start of her diagnosis; I remembered how despite everything, she kept a brave face and remained positive. My mom is the strongest person I know.
She inspired me while I was stuck there. Gradually, the fog of depression lifted from my brain. I was sad yes, but I was able to manage it a bit better. Enough anyways to not sob on the floor in front of all of the other patients. I tried to keep my head up and stay focused. I tried to give myself grace for my own missteps I made while my depression was worsening prior to entering that hospital. I fought with every bone in my body to be a better version of myself.
My mom has always expressed grace and forgiveness—even in the face of brutal unkindness, my mom never wavered in her approach of gentleness towards others.
The doctor who treated me told me I was “stubborn”. She meant that as a compliment, that those who are stubborn are the best survivors. Every day, I reminded myself who I was fighting for. My family first, and myself second.
Hell, I even prayed while in there. I prayed hard, and I prayed daily. I asked my higher power to protect my loved ones, and to give me clarity or a sign of why my life felt like it was continuously unraveling. I am still waiting on that sign. But some of the other prayers I feel may have been addressed.
I have so much love in my heart for my family who has supported me so much in this time. I feel less alone. I know I have few friends locally, but I am so grateful to be back in touch with my extended family. Family trauma previously kept me isolated in my own little box. Family trauma tricked me into thinking that I was alone and that I did not have any support system. I am so glad to say that those thoughts of mine were wrong.
Prior to the hospital stay, I would refer to myself in my own head as The Defender. I was the attack dog when my loved ones were mistreated. I feel love very strong inside me—that is why I try to stand up for others. I will die a martyr I have always joked.
The nurses and the doctors told me I was making great progress and that I was in fact very tough and resilient. I would always answer them and say “I am my mother’s daughter”. I think I said that short phrase upwards of ten different times.
I used to think my mom’s gentleness was weakness. Inside that hospital something changed in me; I began to understand her more clearly and why she would approach everything—even in the face of evil—how she does.
On the inside, I began to soften. I no longer wanted to be intense. I wanted to be like my mom. I am my mother’s daughter. I am more alike to her than I thought. Mom, you are the reason I keep standing up when life knocks me down.
And on that last day as I was discharged to go home, it clicked: I am not just The Defender, but I am also The Champion. I am my mother’s daughter. I am her and she is me.
Mom, I love you so much. Thank you for doing everything you do for me. I will do my best to continue to make you proud.
