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Personal Narrative Essay: Watching My Mother's Death

1601 Words7 Pages

I watched my mother fade away slowly as she was battling pancreatic cancer. I looked after her everyday as best as I could; however, the feeling of my eventual solitude was unbearable.The thought of my mother’s imminent demise made me feel like my heart was being continuously stabbed. Watching my mother suffer was one of the hardest things I have ever had to go through. After her passing; something changed in me, darkness filled where love once was. I always knew deep down, that my mum was not going to make it; however, knowing this did not make it any easier. She died on December 4th 2008. I could not come to terms with her death. Not only was I left with many questions but I also felt like I should have spent more time with her. I had …show more content…

I caught myself getting furious at even nominal things. I thought a lot about how I was going to survive without her being here. I thought I was moving on, until one day someone asked me, “ If you had one wish what would it be?” and the first thing I thought was to spend that one wish on my mother. A few hours after my mother passed, I decided to go home and take out all her clothes; I wanted to remind myself of all the great moments we had. I found her exquisitely shining coarse hair on her blue elegant dress. I could feel her alleviating presence whilst holding her fascinating attire. I said my final goodbyes... it was heartbreaking. I had never ending waves filling my eyes. I was as forlorn as a new widow and and felt bruised and sorrowful as the black stone under the blue sea. Nothing made sense. My life was over. Sometimes I wondered if she had 'gone on ' to some place and just did not want to come back. My bereavement resulted in melancholy, bottles of vodka and dozens of painkillers. I started isolating myself from people because I felt so cold. I pushed everyone else away for they were not my mother. It would be astounding if death could be reversed. Unfortunately it’s inevitable. The fatality of my mother had become a demon of my awakening and my vigilant nights were haunted by the image of

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