My Moment

         In life there are two types of moments. There are the moments that are special in everyday sort of ways. They are the ones where we get a gift we always wanted or when our dog dies. They are the biggest blocks of our memory. The supporting blocks, if you will. The only thing bigger than a moment is a Moment.
         A Moment is the biggest point in a person’s life. It is the turning point. Whether it is for better or worse is dependant on the Moment. They are so life changing that in every person’s life there is only one. So, it really is the most important of all moments in a life.They are crucial to, not only the person as a humanbeing, but also to his or her personality and outlook on life. A person’s Moment can make or break their lives. They can also explain almost everything in any particular person’s behavior ever since the happening of the Moment.
         My Moment, sadly enough, was the day my mom died. Did you know I wasn’t even there? Nope. I was away at college. So as I was bettering myself for life and building the road to my dreams, my mom was lying in a sterile white room begging for me.
         The reason she was crying for me, you ask. It’s because I had not been home in three years. The day I left for college, I left for good and it tore her up. I wad her pillar of strength you might say. It was a big blow for her to have to cope with life by herself. All the while I was thousands of miles away, selfishly sitting in my dorm room, haunting myself with memories of what I had left behind.
         See I’m not really big on family and if you had had my family you would understand instead of looking at me as if I belonged in the circus. If you would have asked my mom who raised me she would have said that I had and for the most part it is true. I saw what was around me and was repulsed so much that I was afraid I would become corrupted or something if I allowed them to teach me. So I left the first chance I got. The only problem is that I loved my mom with everything I had. Even if she was childish in some ways, she was still my mom and the person who gave me life. She was my world. Leaving her hurt me just as much as it did her. But I never told her.
         My mom was my reason for being me. She was the example of what I didn’t want to do or become. Do not think bad of me or my mom. She was a wonderful person and made a great friend but I don’t think that she was able to be my mother but more of my guiding figure. She really did care for me though. When I was sick she would sit with me and hold my hair back. If I was upset she would listen and when things became more than I could handle she would stand beside me and help support me. She never let me back down and she never let me quite. So I became to see those things as signs of weakness and I am anything but weak.
         So when I got the call that she was in the hospital, I became concerned. I didn’t tell her this, or anyone else for that matter, for reasons I still do not know. I just dealt with it silently away from everyone else. My father’s yelling in my ear as to how awful a person I was for not coming back there to be with her. But she was supposed to get out of the hospital the next morning. The doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with her. She was fine they said. No reason to be alarmed.
         They didn’t even know she was gone until my father came to pick her up. They had told him that she was still sleeping. For some reason there were no monitors in her room. There was nothing in there to alert those who could have saved my mom that she needed them. But he went to wake her and found her unwakeable. She had just left.
         The doctors of course did all their tests and still found nothing wrong with her. For all purposes she should still be alive today. My father says he knows what happened though. She had no reason to go, he claims. He says that with me not around she had no reason to function anymore. …I agree.
         That is why I’m standing in this room. There are no windows, no furniture, and the walls are covered with plastic. It’s just me and this gun in the room. Just me, my guilt, and my relief. See, my mom was my world and if you don’t have a world what’s the point in being in the world. This is my way to get my world back. I’m going to go see my mom once again. I’m going to be with my mom, forever. She’ll be happy. She’ll have a reason to be happy again and I can finally tell her that I love her. That her sacrifice was not in vain, I will finish what she started. I’m coming mama.