It’s hard to wake up in the morning and tell yourself that you’re okay. You don’t just tell yourself, you force yourself to believe that you are okay, until you break.It was the summer of 2015, I was eleven years old. Everything was perfect, my brother and I had been getting along for the first time in months. Grandma had been making amazing dinners after long hot days of playing with my friends. Momma, myself, my brother, Isaiah, and my dog, Sodie had been living in the apartment that my grandfather was the landlord of for two year now and we were finally feeling like we were at home. Momma had gotten sick when I was only two years old. She had brain cancer. But now here she was cancer free for 9 years. Momma loved my brother and me, motorcycles,
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Momma broke down in tears. My grandmother tried to calm her down so she could explain why she was so upset. That was the first time I had seen my mother cry in years. She could barely catch her breath. My grandfather, the only one of the adults who wasn’t breaking down, explained to my brother and me that momma’s brain cancer came back and it was stronger. Everything inside me was confused, angry, and upset. I slammed my chair to the ground and ran outside the house and started to run. I keep running without knowing where I was going. Tears flew down my face and into the wind. Before I knew it I was on a old dirt road right outside of Bradford. I stood there alone looking onto the road in front of me. I wanted to keep running but my feet wouldn’t move. When I finally stepped foot onto the gravel driveway of my grandparents house, I slowly pulled my feet to go forward. Moving slowly with no care in the world, I looked up into the small window that lead into the kitchen. I could see my grandma holding my brother in her arms while they …show more content…
She couldn’t do radiation or chemo because of her first-third diagnosis. The next step was a trial drug. A drug that made her gain weight, become even more tired than she already was, forget the important things, and lose her vision. The trial drug had worked for a while until the doctors at OSU realized that the trial drugs that she was taking only were holding up because of her surgeries. It was now March of 2017 and it was final. 6 months to live. 6 months. The months had went by of taking care of her, having people come up to you and give you pity and act as if they know what you’re going through. We had to keep it a secret of enrolling to Tipp City Schools until May. We were scared it was going to break her even more than she already was. When we finally got the guts to tell momma she was sad but she knew it was the right thing to do. May had went by and the beginning of cross country started. I was starting out fresh, only knowing a few people. Everyday I’d wake up at 7:30 am and walked to the Kyle Park, that was two blocks away. I would walk up to the shelter where groups of high schooler and people that I thought could one day be my friends, stared at
Momma broke down in tears. My grandmother tried to calm her down so she could explain why she was so upset. That was the first time I had seen my mother cry in years. She could barely catch her breath. My grandfather, the only one of the adults who wasn’t breaking down, explained to my brother and me that momma’s brain cancer came back and it was stronger. Everything inside me was confused, angry, and upset. I slammed my chair to the ground and ran outside the house and started to run. I keep running without knowing where I was going. Tears flew down my face and into the wind. Before I knew it I was on a old dirt road right outside of Bradford. I stood there alone looking onto the road in front of me. I wanted to keep running but my feet wouldn’t move. When I finally stepped foot onto the gravel driveway of my grandparents house, I slowly pulled my feet to go forward. Moving slowly with no care in the world, I looked up into the small window that lead into the kitchen. I could see my grandma holding my brother in her arms while they …show more content…
She couldn’t do radiation or chemo because of her first-third diagnosis. The next step was a trial drug. A drug that made her gain weight, become even more tired than she already was, forget the important things, and lose her vision. The trial drug had worked for a while until the doctors at OSU realized that the trial drugs that she was taking only were holding up because of her surgeries. It was now March of 2017 and it was final. 6 months to live. 6 months. The months had went by of taking care of her, having people come up to you and give you pity and act as if they know what you’re going through. We had to keep it a secret of enrolling to Tipp City Schools until May. We were scared it was going to break her even more than she already was. When we finally got the guts to tell momma she was sad but she knew it was the right thing to do. May had went by and the beginning of cross country started. I was starting out fresh, only knowing a few people. Everyday I’d wake up at 7:30 am and walked to the Kyle Park, that was two blocks away. I would walk up to the shelter where groups of high schooler and people that I thought could one day be my friends, stared at