The Beginning Poem by Alexis R.

I lost my mother on May 25,2003, she was 49 and died of colon cancer. I then lost my father on July 29,2011, at age 56 to pancreatic cancer. I was 14 when my mother died, and 22 at my father's death. I've been struggling since my mother's passing, whether it be school, family, or just being robbed of a parental figure. I haven't felt more alone, abandoned, or dead in my life. There are many things that happen when someone dies: The immediate family is distraught, feeling as if nothing is happening when everything is, the outer family defends the immediate with warm thoughts, prayers, and sympathy involving flowers, plants, food, and service. You don't ever hear about how much the outer family will eventually abandon every comfort they had previously given. I come from a huge family, which i have always been thankful of, any holiday or family event i was always surrounded by love and affection. I wouldn't think it would ever come to an end. The morning of my mother's death I witnessed at a young age, the falling of an empire, family, I was slowly distanced from aunts, uncles, cousins, who I believed to be my everything. I watched as bleeding eyes slowly started to stray away from everything I was taught. My family was alone. My father, an outrageously strong, hardworking man, was now put in place to be not only the provider for myself as well as my two sisters, but also the caregiver, he became everything there ever will be to all of us. I watched his eyes as they slowly faded from strength to fear. Fear he would never be able to give us everything we clung to him for. He was stern, forgiving, the punisher, the consoler, i can't imagine how he held everything together. Our household could never have felt stronger if it weren't for one link; me. I fought my father, my sisters, anyone who cared for anything i would or could ever be. I thought of the easy way out, i tried the easy way out, i was frail, fragile, hurt, feeling long away from anything i ever knew. My schooling was suffering, my friends were being pushed out, i couldn't bring myself to get out of bed. My father screamed, disciplined, and in his own pain even threw objects around the house. I wouldn't be persuaded through other people's want for me to better myself. I continued to fail my freshman, sophomore, and junior year only to realize that i was failing the one person i missed most. I was taken to many psychological help groups, put on various anti-depressant medications, and eventually realized i needed to prove that i was worthy to be my mother's son. I've always been told how much i resemble her kind face, warm smile, whole-heartedness to be equal to every persons. I took this as a compliment, but also it was a incredibly hard to live up too. I wanted to be like her, to have others treat me as they did her, i couldn't imagine being loved as much as that woman. I quit feeling sorry for myself, i quit my pills that were doing so much "good" in my behavior, and i really started to brand myself as her son. I branded myself as her squire, as someone who wanted so desperately to have the skills and knowledge as she had. I went from a failing freshman, sophomore, junior, to someone who cares about what he will become. I went to school and figured out ways to recover so many missed credits. I went from having school from 7: 35-2: 45 to having night classes from 5-9. Instead of having lunch or a free period i was in an online class regaining extra credits. From a student with well below a 1.0 GPA to someone who graduated with their class. I was ecstatic, i thought if i can do this anything is possible. I moved out at 17 about two months before i actually graduated. I didn't have my father's blessing, which was hurtful, but i understood why he had his doubts. I was working since i was 16 so i knew about money, savings, and stability of a job. I would be lying if i said i did everything after moving out on my own, my father who was very unsure of me leaving was a main help throughout my adventure. I went on to live, working jobs requiring past 40 hours, just to stay in my small apartment. I made just enough to pay my bills and have just enough leftover to play with.

To be continued…