Memories Of My Mother Essay Writing

Example of a Narrative essay on Personal about:

pain / loss / mother / love / death / cancer / disease

 

 The Most Significant Person In My Life

 

 The pain of loss…   

Now I can say with certainty that I had never understood others suffering from unbearable loss of a dear person.  For my part it used to be pity, compassion. When this happened to me, when my dear mother died, I started to understand all those people who lost someone they loved. There are perhaps no proper words to describe this pain, at least none used on this planet. This intolerable pain which tears you apart, which is like a stone on your heart, and which make tears run down your face with each recollection of the dear person who passed away. Time is unlikely to alleviate this hurt, no matter what others claim.

Every morning I still wake up thinking that she is there drinking her tea in the room, watching her favourite programs. Then suddenly the truth comes rushing up to me and I realize that it is just a dream hanging around me still, and a cold despair fall upon me. Despite my apparent tranquillity and surface brightness, I feel empty inside. My mother’s death was a really sobering experience I’ve passed through. It was the most devastating loss in my life.

The memory of my mother will follow me wherever I go, and however far tinting my dreams with a gentle scent of rosemary and the shimmering silver of her laugh. My mother had a serene charisma and a soothing aura around her. She was there to show me my first butterfly and my first rain. She was there when I made my first steps. She taught me to smile and laugh.

Moreover, my mother listened to all my fears and apprehensions with a gentle patience which can only be admired. She covered my winters of self-doubt and self-hate with such warm and tender blankets of caring love.  Her eyes were so soft, wandering, and full of comprehension when they focused on other people. My mother’s greatest desire was only to cherish, protect, and lavish affection and care to her family. When I had really bad times, she washed me with her healing sympathy and distracted me with her brilliant humor. My mother was the only person I could really rely on.

Every time I heard about my friends’ conflicts or quarrels with their mothers, I was immensely surprised because I have never had conflicts or quarrels with my mother. I have always had feelings of love, tenderness, kindness toward her. In childhood I wanted to become as strong, calm and wise as my mom was. I couldn’t figure out how she tolerated patiently my endless “why's” and “how's”. She always had ready answers for all my questions. Now, after eighteen years of life experience I can also answer many questions, but I still can’t put my thoughts into words so clearly. 

In all my actions I was free to make my own decisions. My mother almost never forbid me anything. Now I understand that it was my mother who taught me how to distinguish right from wrong, and she did it unobtrusively and without reprimanding.

No one has ever loved me the way she did. My mother was my sole support system, whenever something exciting happened or there was a crisis in my life, she was the first person I turned to. She understood me better than anyone else I knew. I miss our talks, her support, advices, care.

When my family and I found out she had cancer, I was really distraught. It was a life changing moment. I tried to do my best to support my mother as soon as I got to know that she was incurably ill.  I started doing more around the house ( washing dishes, cooking for my mom etc., so that she could rest). Apart form that, I tried to find out as much as possible about breast cancer, still hoping that something could be done to make her healthy again. Till the day she finally passed away I had a hope that everything would turn out to be fine.

This feeling of emptiness and helplessness without the closest person never leaves you. Mother cannot be substituted by anyone, probably like deceased children cannot be substituted by anyone for their parents.

I regard myself a lucky person that I had a chance to tell my mother everything that was on my heart, to tell her how much I loved her. I can only imagine the unbearable pain of people who lose someone dear to them all of a sudden and feel that there are so many things they never said to them…

Luckily, I had some time to thank my mother for sharing with me qualities that made her so special for others – the ability to forgive, honesty, devotion, kindness, generosity, cheerfulness, sensitivity, patience, dependability, delicacy. Sometimes a couple of soothing words said by her could cheer me up even in the most unlucky days. My mother’s character was the basis on which my own character is built. I thanked her for her loving help and protection, for giving me everything I needed - and even a bit more - to grow up. With gentle hands, with calming words full of wisdom, with a lot of warm and loving hugs she mended my broken toys and broken heart all over again. I thanked her also for giving me enough confidence to face the hardships of this crazy world with a smile.

I remember all those times when I wasn’t as nice as I should have been.  I remember all those times when I didn't put her feelings before my own. I know that my mother forgave me for my misbehaviour but for some reason when she passed away I remembered all the lost moments. Now, when she is no longer with me it leaves a space that no one else can fill because the bond between mother and child can never be broken.

When my mom passed away, just a little past a year ago, my whole life changed, my grades started slipping, I started skipping classes , I dropped all extra-curricular activities ( hockey, badminton). Stayed back another year in high school. I started to become depressed. I feel like there was a miss hole in my life.

She was the dearest person in my life. I want to do something to keep the warmth and memory of my mom. It is good that there are photos and video records so that I can hear her voice again and see her smooth smile.


            These days I try hard not to think about the past and focus on my future. Although my pain is still as immense as on the day of my mom's death, now I clearly see what I have to do to go on living. I mustn't stay on my own, with all my depressive thoughts. I will have to take up any activity - start joga, read books, play computer games, do sports. It is also worth using my time and energy for helping other people. Helping others will give a meaning to my life, and I will have less time to plunge into the abyss of despair.  

To stride over grief. In order to start a new life again. And no matter that it's so hard that you have no idea what to do.

To stride over grief. In order…

To meet the sunset again.

To listen to the silence of the forest and enjoy the tranquility of undisturbed sea.

To gaze at the infinite stars and think of people who are dear to you.

To stride over grief. Without forgetting the person that meant so much in your life.

 

My mother died just over 5 years ago from cancer and not a day goes by that I don’t miss her. I thought it was about time I wrote about how losing her has changed the way I see the world, has changed me and what it’s been like trying to get my head around it all.

It’s true what they say, you can never really understand what it’s like until it happens to you. I once described losing my mother as like the sky suddenly falling down. My mother carried me for 9 months, gave birth to me, was the first sight I ever set my eyes upon, fed me when I was hungry, got no sleep for months when I woke her up crying at night, changed my nappies, watched me smile when I recognised her face, start to crawl, take my first steps, say my first word. She was always there for me, every memory I’ve ever had growing up has her in it. When I was upset she was there to cheer me up. When I needed advice it was her I sought out. And when I stepped out of line it was her who put me back in step. She was a strong, loving mother who I always knew was on my side, would do anything for me and my brother and gave us the perfect upbringing that made us the men we are today. I’d known her as my mother and as I became an adult I knew her as the woman Jean Conners with a devilish sense of humour and a certain innocence about her. She was the most wonderful person I’ve ever known. She had always been a huge part of my life and now that she’s gone I realise that I’d always assumed she would be.

You never expect the sky to fall down, the sky is always there and always will be. And that’s exactly how I felt about my mother.

When my father phoned me early one morning to tell me my mother was dying the first words I said to him were “you’re joking”. Obviously he wouldn’t, but my instinct was that it couldn’t be happening. Him phoning me again later (I can’t remember if I’d left to drive home or was just about to leave) to tell me she had died just didn’t seem real – I was numb. I arrived home before my brother (who’d been staying with me that weekend and was driving himself to my dad’s) and stepped into the hall. My dad came over to me and something I didn’t expect then happened. All my life my dad had been the one to comfort me in times of sadness but this time he was the one holding onto me and I was the one comforting him. It’s times like that you realise when you’ve grown up and become an adult. We were both inconsolable and if you ever find yourself imagining what a situation like that is like, imagine it a million times worse. And then when my brother turned up, well think a British billion times worse (that’s a million million). Even then, I still just couldn’t believe it.

In the months after her death I just couldn’t grasp that she was gone. I’d walk past an arts and craft shop and my first thought would be to take her there the next time she was down. I’d see something on TV that I knew she’d be interested in and I’d go to pick up the phone and call her before reality hit me. It was as though my brain just wouldn’t accept that she was gone forever.

Whenever I’d visit my father’s house I’d come down in the morning before anyone else was up and watch TV in the lounge like I always did. I’d be sitting there waiting for her to come in and sit next to me like she always did (we were early risers). I cried far more while she was suffering with cancer than after she died but on mornings like that I could never hold back the tears, sat there sobbing on my own waiting for someone that was supposed to always be there who I started to realise never would be again.

After some time – I couldn’t tell you how much – my brain dealt with things in a different way. I seemed to accept that she was gone and didn’t find myself about to call her any more. Instead she kept turning up in my dreams. Sometimes the dreams would be set in my childhood and it was only when I woke up that I’d feel sad, knowing I’d seen her again, or feel happy because it felt like I’d spent some more fleeting moments with her. More upsetting were the dreams where I knew she was dead in the real world, and in the dream she did too and I was just talking to her telling her how I missed her. Waking up would just take me away from her. If I were a spiritual person I’d feel comforted that maybe she was reaching out to me from beyond the grave, but unfortunately I know better and it’s my mind coming to terms with her death showing me what it thinks I want to see – or something like that. Odder were the ones where in the dream I saw her and was really upset knowing that when I woke up she’d be gone. I’d wake up with tears on my pillow but had left the sadness in the dream and didn’t feel upset at all.

The dreams started to fade away (although they do come back from time to time) and I found that my mind seemed to understand that she was gone. It was as though in the preceding years (and it took that long) my brain had been drip-feeding me little bits at a time rather than trying to get my head around the concept that my mother was gone all at once. It’s a good job I didn’t take it all in at once – because it’s such an utterly terrible thing to have to get used to and live with. I feel so bad for friends who lose parents because I know that it actually never gets any easier with time – you have to carry the pain and burden for the rest of your life. The only thing that changes is that you learn to live with it in your own way.

As I said at the start, not a day goes by that I don’t miss her. I still get upset from time to time but my mother was exactly the same decades after the death of her mother. She never hid the tears from us and as a result we were brought up knowing that it was perfectly normal to miss someone you loved and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.

She wrote me a letter when she knew she wouldn’t make it and in it she told me she’s always admired my positive outlook on life and to make the most of life as it’s so precious. Every day that goes by that’s exactly what I try to do.

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CategoryFrom The Heart, Looking Back

Posted by John Conners

Creator of John's Background Switcher. Scotsman, footballer, photographer, dog owner, risk taker, heart breaker, nice guy. Some of those are lies.

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