I guess I never really could admit that she’s not well. I just convinced myself that she would get better. Whenever someone asked me about her how she’s doing, I’ll reply with a “yeah, she’s getting better!” even though I know she isn’t. She’s almost exactly the same as she was since the start of last year. I thought that if I told them that she’s healing, she really must have been getting better. But I guess at the end of the day I just couldn’t believe my lies either. I wish I could have done something sooner.
I logged onto Facebook the other day, and I randomly looked at my mother’s photo albums. She had this phase where she would upload the photos from the past. I told her to delete some of them, but right now, I’m so glad she didn’t.
It opened my eyes as I compared her to what she was like then and now. Every single photo I clicked, I could see the change in her; the smiles and straight posture are now replaced with a tired, wrinkled face and a slouched back. I could finally see what I’ve been shutting out for so long.
All those times that I’ve been searching for the reason why it all happened, and I couldn’t, even though it was right there before me. I understand now.
That’s the thing when you’re too close to someone; you miss out the entire image of the person. You don’t see what people see. You only see what you’re used to seeing, but when the bigger picture comes up to you, you’re taken aback at what you’re looking at.
My mother was going too fast, and we didn’t know that it was taking its toll on her health. I guess she didn’t know either. She needs us, and truthfully, we need her too. We can never look broken in front of her, for we fear that she’ll break into pieces. I guess being strong for someone is the best kind of strength we could possibly acquire. Even when the person you love changes, the only thing that should stay the same is your love for them.
Photos by: Steph Lee