Personal Narrative: The First Three Stages Of Grief

One morning during the summer before my sophomore year in high school, I woke up in a way that I would never want to be woken up ever again. I was sleeping peacefully and then I felt the hand of someone, on my arm, lightly shaking me to get up. I was very groggy, still half asleep, wondering why they had woken me up. Once I had opened my eyes I saw it was my mom’s boyfriend, and I asked “What do you want?”. He replied, “I think your mom is dead.” I felt that he was being sarcastic and I said, "she’s a really heavy sleeper." He then told me, "I didn’t want to ambulance to scare you." Thats when I really woke up. Of course this is where my fifteen year old self begins to go into the first stage of grief, which is disbelief. I honestly thought that the body on her bed was a fake and she was a secret agent off on a mission or something. That fantasy stayed with me for a while, and even though it seemed impossible, I wanted it to be true more than anything. My parents were already divorced and this event was the turning point that forced me to live with my Dad full time. The transition was difficult, …show more content…
Even though I do not have a mom, I still have motherly instincts inside me. I love to babysit, so whenever I get that chance I feel as if I can still be a great mom even if I do not have one myself. It does hit me sometimes, but I know that she would want me to go and live my life the way I want to, and have a happier life than she did. I know that she suffered from depression and bipolar, which did not leave her head in a very good place. This helps me to realize that she did not mean for it to hurt others as it did, but because she was sick and in a way, I see it as weak. However, she was my mother and I still love her, and I am in the process of forgiving her. Time will heal wounds, even though they may not fully heal, time is the one thing that can cure