Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: BLUE (11/09/17)
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TITLE: Mother | Previous Challenge Entry
By Zenobia Bereal
11/09/17 -
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A few years ago, I quietly sat alone in my backyard, retrospectively musing on the day I contemplated suicide. I seriously considered it; my dear mother passed away. She finally lost her five-year fight with cancer that eventually ravaged her entire precious body. It was over. The day mother died, soul turned from red to blue.
Mother was my everything: security, sanity, identity, friend, best friend, and maybe even my god. If I could, I would have meshed myself back into her faithful body that birthed me. We were close.
When mother grew so sick she could no longer go to the restroom, I gladly ministered hygiene with the tenderness that you give a new born. Love is amazing! Somehow, I never gave helping her a second thought! Mother rang her bell through the night for assistance, and I jumped out of a sound sleep to minister care to my beautiful sick mother. How can I forget the night she said, “Cookie, I am so sorry you have to do this!†I was only 18 years old, yet I replied with grave wisdom; “mother, if the situation were reversed, would you want me to feel that way?†Although mother’s dignity obviously suffered, that day it was preserved; her soul turned from blue to red.
The fateful day mother was rushed to Kaiser hospital by ambulance for the last time shook me to the bone. I stood in the middle of the street, watching her being driven into an inevitable eternity without me. I was never the same. My soul turned from red to blue. Our home was never the same. The atmosphere turned from red to blue. I experienced wordless suffering.
In the care-giving process, I didn’t realize having an option to turn from “blue to red or red to blue†represented hope. As long as there was turning, mother was still with me. After mother passed away, I no longer had an option. My soul was only blue.
Suicide is only blue. I stood by the fishpond in my backyard reeling in dark blue. The sunlit sky, chirping birds and humming bees were of no effect. Starring at the fish swimming back and forth, suicidal thoughts contemplatively raced through my mind. Then I remembered mother. What would she think if I showed up, unannounced? What explanation would I offer mother? Surely, my suicide would indicate that she failed as a parent to impart life’s hope into me, independent of herself. Mother deserved eternal peace, without interruption.
Then arose the game-changing question from deep within my blue soul: how can I continue to preserve mother’s dignity? The question would not be ignored. It plagued me for several days. Eventually, I had to push past selfishness and pride in order to honestly answer.
Quietly, soberly, humbly, I made a choice to live, demonstrating to mother (and providing to myself) that her parental investment was not in vain. She was good seed, and I was her soil. Mother’s strength came alive in me. In that amazing moment, my soul turned from blue again to red. Love lifted me. The experience matured me in such a way that to this day I understand that blue is a part of life, just don’t get stuck in it.
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Just a few little thoughts. When using Mother as a name it should start with a capital letter. The other thing is go through and count how many times you repeated words like blue or suicide. By rearranging sentences and using a thesaurus, you can prevent those repeats.
I think you did a nice job of writing on topic. I liked the double use of the meaning of the topic word. Good job.