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Dear God, Why did You pick my Mom?
by Millie Roig

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Mom is gone. Where are you mommy? Can you hear me?

I was only twelve years old when mom died. She was diagnosed with breast cancer at age 34. That was eight years ago. Of course I didn't know what was wrong with mom or how really sick she was. All I knew was that she would go to the doctor, come home, and have to go to sleep. My brother and I were not allowed to bother mommy when she was sleeping. I was just a little kid who wanted mommy to spend all her time with me and not sleep so much. I really didn't know I would have to watch my mother suffer and die before I was really old enough to understand.


I'm sixteen now, and I'm still trying to figure out why I had to lose my Mom to God before she or I were ready. I guess I'm being selfish but I wanted Mom to watch me grow up. Isn't that the way life is suppose to be. She wasn't suppose to die and leave me alone. She was suppose to take care of me and my brother. Dear God, why did You pick my mother?


Don't get me wrong, I do have a wonderful dad who has done everything possible to make me happy over the past four years. He's mom and dad now. But something is missing. I keep thinking what it would be like if she were still alive. Is it wrong to wish she was still here? Am I feeling this way because there is so much I didn't get to tell her.


You know, my relationship with mom wasn't the best. I wish I could say I was the perfect loving daughter. But that would be a lie. Perhaps because I knew she was dying I became bitter and pushed her away some. I gave her a hard time. I didn't mean to. I forgot she was sick because she was in remission for almost seven years. When she got really sick again the year before she died, I pretended she was fine. I never thought much about her dying. I thought I had control of my emotions. I thought if I didn't give in, she wouldn't die. It was my defense and I fooled myself into believing it. Funny how, now that I am a little older I can realize this.


That last year I watched Mom get weaker and weaker. She lost all her hair again and she was so thin. I watched as she withered away and the cancer just ate her up alive. She couldn't get out of bed anymore and Grandma and Dad had to take care of her. All I could do was watch. I tried talking to her but I felt she didn't understand me much. I gave her little reason to know me. Over the past few years I just pushed her more and more away. I wonder now if I hurt her feelings. She never said anything to me about it, but I felt so distant. I loved her so much. Why couldn't I tell her.

I could see the pain in Grandma's eyes. She's trying to hide her feelings and act like everything is going to be just fine. But I knew everything wasn't okay and my life would never be the same again.


I felt like this wasn't real, like a dream, and that somehow it would all just disappear. You know, that's exactly what happened ---- Mom disappeared, just disappeared from my life. I can't complain to her anymore. I can't call her to help me when I need her. I can't tell her I love her. I can't tell her I'm sorry. She doesn't hear me. She doesn't answer me. Mom, where are you? Do you know what I'm doing or who I have become? Do you know how I feel? Can you see me? Were you there when I got my first A in school? I did it for you. You always told me I could do better. I feel so alone sometimes. You'd be proud of me now. I take care of myself. I work hard at school. I want to go to college. Are you listening Mom? Do you hear me? Do you think I look like you Mom? Am I pretty? I lost weight. I play sports and I love taking pictures, just like you did. I won third place in a photo contest. I took a picture of our shed. You remember, the shed with that old shovel just leaning against the rusty wall. Mom, I want to believe you hear me and are watching me grow up. I think I'll hold on to that thought. I love you.


I was thinking about why God picked my Mom, and I have to be honest, I don't understand God much yet, but I can only imagine that my Mom was someone really special to Him. Even though I wanted to keep her here with us, it wasn't my decision. She was only 42 and I guess it was her time to accept God's kiss of eternal life.


Written by: Millie Roig
coachmpr@aol.com.

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