Did you ever have that feeling that nobody quite understands you? Trapped in a web of thoughts, didn’t know where to stop or to begin, and you’re afraid to ask. Maybe not even afraid to ask, but you might not want to know the answer. This is how I felt when I was 11 years old. Not because I was a confused kid, but because a brain tumor the size of a tennis ball was found in my mothers head. There shouldn’t be space in there for this monster, but it happened and we had to fight it. She had to fight it. My mother was the socialite of the town I grew up in. She was spontaneous, beautiful, and always friendly. She was an example for everyone, especially for me. I didn’t know how she always did it, but people loved having her around. Everything changed when she got cancer, everything except for her. At least to me she tried to pretend that nothing was wrong. She was going to fight this beast. Ever since I never saw anyone this strong and inspiring. She refused to give in to this horrible disease. It has been 12 years now since she got sick. Many people ask me “Do you even remember everything?” Just because I was young doesn’t mean that I am suffering from amnesia. In fact I remember everything like it was yesterday. I think many people underestimate the impact of cancer on a child. Especially now, but also 12 years ago, there was the Internet. When I was 11 years old I knew more about brain tumors than about Barbie. This is one of the many reasons why I would like to write about it now. Putting things into perspective, and who knows, maybe it will help someone understand.

There are everlasting loves that continue to exist after death do us part. I lost my always-loving mother when I was 12 years old to brain cancer. A battle we could not win. This is my voice, my story from a child’s perspective.


12 thoughts on “‘Putting Things into Perspective’

    1. Honesty is the best policy, I’m sure he will appreciate it later in life. Even though it seems like a tough conversation now, children are very aware of what’s going on. I wish you strength in this difficult battle!

  1. Reading this was sheer serendipity. Happy thank you more please 🙂 I do not want belittle your experiences by empathizing. I’d just like you to go on writing because god (?) knows I lost the words.

  2. I hesitate to say anything for fear it would draw attention away from you and your courage. You are a very brave soul and you are blessing others with your generosity of heart. Bless you, dearest.

  3. I came back here after you followed my blog, and I found my heart broken for you.

    I am glad you’re writing, I know how much it has helped me deal with (because I don’t believe we “get over”) loss. I’m also glad that perhaps other kids reading this will know that they aren’t alone. No matter how difficult whatever you’re going through may be, knowing you’re not alone makes a difference.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s