"What Am I to Say?" | Teen Ink

"What Am I to Say?"

November 2, 2009
By K.M.Simpson SILVER, Millington, Tennessee
K.M.Simpson SILVER, Millington, Tennessee
5 articles 0 photos 10 comments

"What am I to say?That I am sorry i had to ask and beg for help?Forgive me, I was raised to be able to throw my stubborn pride into the Missisippi when I needed help.My father currently resides in Isaqua,Washington at this time.My mother, a bed on floor five of Methodist North where she has lain for 2 and a half weeks.I,having turned 18 a month ago,reside in my empty home,listening to hard rock music to drown out the thoughts in my head. Had we known my mother would be this ill,my father would never have gone,my mother would have never allowed us to leave the hospital.It has been the year from hell medically speaking.It is just swine flu,yet she is overmedicated.She goes in Wednesday,my father leaves Sunday morning.Monday my own flesh and blood,say we are to go to the doctor,I will get what I need for my mother and stay with her at the hospital to visit and she how she is doing.Somewhere in between these things,my grandparents say they are going to buy a car,I grow angry and fruastrated and impatient,which I do anytime I am at a car dealership.I call my mother to give me my instructor's number so that I may cancel. What am I to say to him?"Steve I'm sorry,but my mother is in hospital again,my father is gone and I'm stuck at a flippin car dealership,I must sacrifice my music,please forgive me!"That does not happen,mother will not allow it.She knows I need this.Dad has not even been gone 24 hours. It is week one of the 3 weeks my father is gone,week something of taking care of my mother.Anyone else would not do this,they wouldn't have the strength,will,the fight. My father said before he left "Honeygirl,this is a lot on you,throw that pride of yours out the Misssissippi and ask for help. And so I do. My father's best friend calls me everyday to see if I have food,to see if I need medicine,he calls my mother daily,he listens as we are at the doctors,listening carefully.He stops by the house,looking around. I had to beg my teachers as i was taking The ACT when all this first begun.We were due to take the math portion.Learning disabled, I am but even with the time, I knew I couldn't finish it.My principal took me into the chapel,placed his hands on my shoulders and forced me to look him in eyes as he simply said"Ms.Simpson,this is far too much on you.You will take the math portion Friday,when you will have more time.Let us pray."As I sat in the chapel,in the school that used to be my home,thoughts consumed me,"How will I do my studies?How can I handle this all alone?"My best friends from church,who genuinely care,asked "If there was anything I needed,If I wanted to stay with them?"It was not their responsibilty,like it was not my father's best friend's.Saturday,2 days ago,Halloween,my mother and aunt fight,my father and mother fight,I lose it in the car.It has been too much. We talk,my parents and I. "You have held up so well and so good,you've done better than someone twice your age and twice the experience,honeygirl." My father cries as he says these things.I simply look at both my parents,who have tears in their eyes and say" It was the right thing to do.I had no choice.Dad corrects me"Baby,you had a choice,you bore the burden and have had the world on your shoulders out of love.Not out of the sense of respect and dignity and compassion we instilled in you.You will make a fine social worker one day.I love you,sweetheart."My mother is slowly getting better,it seems as though our life is getting some normalcy again.

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