I Want my Mommy

March 6, 2009
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When I was 6, you embraced my olive soaked skin in your affectionate arms. You held my glossy, black locks of hair when I got sick. You let me climb into the bed when I had nightmares that caused sweat beads to run down my brow and tears to come to my chocolate eyes. You kept me home from school when you knew I wasn't handling the divorce. We cried and laughed for days. We became each other's best friends. That's when I knew everything was going to be alright. Even though we didn't have any family or any money, I knew we were going to make it through together.
We were the dynamic duo when we moved. We painted smiles so well on our faces that nobody but us could see our agony. It was hard being so far away from the person I called 'daddy', but I soon got over it. The first place we turned to was grandma and grandpa. I soon realized why you moved so far away. I became accustomed to the constant nagging of my appearance. Even though they annoyed me like a yipping little dog, I knew it was because they loved me.
After a while, we were able to save enough money to live on our own. It wasn't a fun life, but it was our life. I hated school, but I wouldn't let you know it. I somehow knew my life was meant for something better. You dated so many men. Tall ones, small ones, mean ones, nice ones, ugly ones, red haired ones. They were as different as the rainbow. I hated them all. I didn't show it though. I just wanted you to be happy, but I knew you weren't though.
I soon realized you weren't the healthiest person on Earth. I became familiar with the term, Type 1 Diabetes. 'Oh. The bad kind,' the words still ring in my head from the handful of people who gave me the pitied face. I wanted to wipe those facial expressions off with a snap. Why did they look at me with such sadness? Why so worried? We were tough. We could handle it.
I still have the scene etched in my head when you were so sick that you couldn't even drive us home. I knew the only people that could help us were the ones that first took us in. I was terrified' I was frozen inside... I was helpless' I wanted my mom'. I needed your comforting freckled arms to wrap around me and tell me everything was going to be ok, but you couldn't. I was alone, but I had to remain strong, for you. I was your warrior. I was your rock. Oh, I wish you could know how scared I was, but I'd never do that to you. I couldn't let you be tough for me because it was my time to be strong for you. I would hide my tears every night, soaking my pillow; waking with a grinning mask the next morning.
Many years went by and we became famous on the 4th floor of the hospital. The pastel colored tile became too familiar for my liking. The smell of the paint became too sickening to withstand. It gave me an ulcer every time, but you could see my smile the whole time. I would not let a tear fall. Even more years went by and you found 'the one', not just for you but for us. He became the peace maker when things became rocky between us. He was my rock and your boulder. I soon realized my 'daddy' was no father at all. He was just a man who gave me my genes.
Then my February 17th came. It was my day. I just wasn't expecting the birthday present I obtained that night. He called when I was cheering on our Warriors. 'I took her to the hospital.' My heart dropped ten stories. How could this be? All I wanted was to hold you right next to me, to assure me that you were alright. For days on end, I didn't see you. I cried myself to sleep in my grandparent's dank spare bedroom. I worried constantly. Then he let me see you because he knew I could handle it.
When I walked into the all too familiar room, I was shattered. I was no longer as strong as a rock, unable to be cracked. I was a crumbled rock, now as small as pebbles. I was 6 again. I was weak and lost. I wouldn't show it though. I became the warrior that I am always for you. I took your hand and became your rock because you were too weak to be a pebble.

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