Everyday

For the last 217 days, the same senario has played in my head. It's always the same. Me standing behind a podium speaking about how great of a woman my mother is. I've buried my mother 217 times in my mind but after this moment, I promise to spend every minute celebrating life instead of mourning before she's gone. 

I'm so wrapped up in the fear of her passing away that sometimes I don't even appreciate the time I have with her. 

All of my life, I was afraid if her never coming home. When I was younger, my mother and I were homeless and she also had a drug addiction. Sometimes, she would leave me with my grandmother or sister and I thought I would never see my mother again. Ever since I was a child, I believed that evil lurked in the darkness. Behind trees, dark alleys; evil existed. I never knew exactly what she was doing but I knew that evil was out there. Whenever she would leave, I would cry. I would sit in my grandmothers living room and cry until she came back. I was her "stink" and she was my "ma". 

Let me clarify, although my mother had a drug addiction, she was the most amazing mother a child could ask for. She allowed her addiction to get in the way of being a good employee, having good credit, even having home but it never, NEVER stopped her ability to be an amazing mother to me. 

My mother has always been the strongest woman I knew. She beat that drug addiction, after many failing attempts she became a bus driver, she was able to get back into a home of her own, and she raised me. I have flaws, but I'm perfect in her eyes. 

Right now, my mother is upstairs in a hospice bed, oxygen around her face and she's fighting just to breathe. She's weak. She's tired. The cancer rapidly spread.....

 ....But she's still here. She's still fighting and she still has hope. She's still strong. 

From here on out I'm love her with all of my heart while I still can. I'm going to love her everyday.