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My mother has a way of ignoring things, or should I say using things to her advantage. She changes things so that they are...not what they were meant to be. When I was four, on my birthday, my daddy left me. When I was three Nana was sick and dying with breast cancer the kind that completely takes over and there is only hope that they will die without little pain, nothing else. My mother pretended everything was fine. She would beg Nana to go to the store with her, normal things.
On the day my Nana died my mother was the last to show her face on her bedside. Nana told everyone she refused to pass on until she had seen her little baby girl. The last thing my grandmother said was to me. She said "I love you baby." and kissed my head and hugged me once. Then my pawpaw told Nana, "It's okay to go now, go on home." Then my Nana died.
I can't remember her all to well, but I know she loved me. With all her heart she loved me. She loved me until she took her very last breath before entering the gates of heaven to help the lord to pour the stars out at night. And I loved her.
My nana, a angel in herslef, thought I was her angel and needed me there to be set free from her pain. Yet my mother treats me as if I were a dog, and calls me a whore where I am pure. I just get so confused. I was my nana's angle, and my mother's burden. Though it does touch me that I could be cared for so much by someone.
My pawpaw has congestive heart failure,diabetes, and one hobby; perfecting his lawn. It won't be long before he passes on. And mother is ignoring that too. I wonder what splendid memories await me in the furture.