My mother is the one of the people who I can really look up to. She can be a pain sometimes, but I know that she is because she wants me to do well. When she was diagnosed with cancer in 2004, I knew that this would change our lives forever. It was treatable, thank god, but when she told me I was very concerned. The Zebra had begun its first dance.

She did laser radiation and got the tumor removed, but I didn’t know if she would be there the next day, or if she would’ve moved on. I was way too young to understand. She pulled through the chemotherapy, and did some physical therapy through a place called Navitas. She was a tank. She never did complain about things. In the summer, she had to get some kind of eye surgery, and depending on what it was, she wouldn’t be able to move at all for a week. I couldn’t stay with my dad because he was hiking in New York. So she talked with my Grandma in Florida and sent me there. The dance had ended after a long time, I don’t remember exactly how long.

All was well until two years ago when she got cancer again, a more aggressive kind. The zebra had started to dance once again; it danced its way into our life. I didn’t know what would happen and the ordeal began again. She had to do a lot of operations, and get another port that did some medical stuff. When the doctors took the port out, however, all hell broke loose. The arm that the port was in got infected and she had to have more operations. I went to Florida that summer as usual and got to talk to her and write letters so as to check up with her. Through that whole summer I was worried. Worried that tomorrow wouldn’t be a promise for her. This was the summer that I spent a lot of in Florida, so, as a result, I wasn’t able to see her as much. I was honestly scared for her life. It was over, the dance was finally over. Now I could rest easy knowing that it was over.

When she was done with the first bout of cancer, it was like the eye of the hurricane. Calm, Peaceful, life went on as it did before the cancer. I went to Florida for a long time that year. 5 weeks and a day. I did just about everything that I could there. I wrote and called mom to check in with her, she was doing fine and really enjoyed my letters and calls. My cousins didn’t really understand what had happened (I think) but they tried to comfort me and leave the whole topic alone. When I got back, I had thought that the ordeal was over, but I was wrong. Dead wrong. Mom had to stay in bed just about everyday, but she did have Ivan and her horse though. I had to bike to school almost everyday, but I didn’t mind because I liked it. I was alone for once, and didn’t have my mom or dad telling me what to do while I was biking.

The Zebra is constantly dancing, causing all of the bad things to happen in the world. It was the reason that my mom got cancer, it was the reason all of this happened. Maybe if Pandora hadn’t opened her box, the Zebra wouldn’t have gotten out, just maybe.

I went to see her from time to time, but mostly stayed with my dad. She had to stay at the hospital for a little bit, but it was mostly so that the doctors could do some things to help her fight off the infection. She pulled through as usual and as it turns out the cancer was treatable. She got it treated and we moved on.

Throughout this whole thing, I was thinking: Why her? Why not someone else? Couldn’t it have been anyone else? Another thing I thought about was what I would’ve done if the cancer wasn’t treatable, and my answer was, I would do everything I could to make her last few moments the best of her life. I would’ve apologized for everything that I had done wrong.

This whole adventure taught me that people don’t last forever, and if you lose a mom or dad in your life, good luck replacing them because you only get one. This also made me think of all the times that I had been mean or “sassy” to my parents, and what I would do if I said something like that and they die the next morning. It just made me think about what I had and what I didn’t need, but wanted.