Cello & Rhapsody

     Gosh, I don’t even know where to begin this post - I guess the best place is at present…with me sitting here in my bed, contemplating the age old question: why? You know, looking back on my childhood I had it pretty great - I grew up in an upper middle class family and was never without; we took trips to Disney World and the beach every year from the time I was like 12, and we always had a movie and dinner outing every weekend. Then, for no good reason at all, fate decided to turn my father into a felon, my mother found herself a new job on the unemployment line, and I was hurled into the full time working world while still in high school…all during the course of a summer. Faced with losing our house, we could no longer afford vacations or movies - hell, had it not been for credit cards and the generosity of my then 84-year old grandmother, we wouldn’t have even been able to afford electricity or water or even food on the table! I watched my mom in tears on the drive way as her car was repossessed and my grandmother giving us checks just so we could make it by one more month. We couldn’t even afford senior pictures or my senior band trip to NYC. 

     College has been nothing short of a struggle for me…financially and technically. It seems that at every turn there is another obstacle in my way prolonging me from reaching my ultimate goal of graduation. I’m 22 and at this rate, I won’t finish my bachelors until I’m 25. Just when I think things are starting to look up for me and my mom BOOM! life decides to kick me down and punch me while I’m out of air. I’ve moved more times in the past year than I ever care to in my entire life in pursuit of a better future for myself. I’ve found love, only to have that love take everything from me both emotionally and financially, leaving me devoid of patience, funds and dignity. Each time always ending with me back in front of my mom’s door with my suitcase in hand..

     And the icing on the cake? As if my dignity hadn’t been stripped away enough or my sense of stability wasn’t shaky enough - I found out April 27th I was pregnant, not by choice or free will (I’ll just leave it at that), only to be abandoned and left for dead by the culprit of the crime. Only to miscarry 3 weeks later and have to undergo, what is to date, the most traumatizing and physically painful experience of my life (second to the event that started all of this). After the procedure, I came home to an empty apartment and later that day, a father, who had absolutely no clue what I had just gone through. The pain I experienced, the fears I encountered, and the emotional burden of finding out you’re pregnant, miscarrying, and having a d&c abortion without saying a word to the man who watched you grow up because you know he’ll just call you stupid - he’s done it before.  

     And then I look at my mom, the living embodiment of Elizabeth Taylor herself (no joke) and my hero. After 5 years of struggle, I see this once vivacious women clinging to the surface; keeping the faith and having the unbending strength to move forward in the hopes that “it gets better.” The woman who never went without, now resigning herself to food stamps and before that, was on a “fruit and yogurt cup at every meal” diet. At 62, I want nothing more for my mother than for her to retire and love life again, and one of my goals is to do that for her - buy her a condo on the beach and get her a better car than the one she lost. I’ll eat ramen noodles every night if I have to - I just want my mom to be happy. 

     So now we’re back to present: with my here sitting on my bed, contemplating the age old question: why? And after 5 years, I nor my mother are any closer to the answer than we were at the start. For me, I can only think of one thing: gratitude. Being able to be thankful for everything you have, even when you have so little. Remembering that there is always someone worse off than yourself. And the courage to keep going when it seems impossible. At least, that’s the theory that helps me sleep at night and gives me the strength to get up every morning. 

     I think we’ve all been asked or have asked someone what the one question they would ask God when they get to heaven would be…mine is simply this: why?