Memories

         That day, the sun was out. It was hot. The wind was blowing softly, a breeze soft enough to keep the heat, but cool enough to keep you outside. Thats what we did. My two older brothers and I. I was 5 at the time, my brothers 6 and 8, something around there. Around my grandfathers property, there was a small incline of a hill, a small grassy field to the right. Thats where we spent our time. That was our favorite place to go, at least it was for me, but it soon became the place I dreaded the most.

It was August of 1999, in a little town of Newfoundland called Woody Point. On this day, we were playing in the field for a while, and the field turned down on a steep decline to go down to the beach road. My brothers and I were down on the beach, skipping rocks and playing in the small pond that had gather on the beach from the salt water. It was near dinner time, so our mother was at the top of the hill calling down to us. She had mentioned that we would not be allowed out again after we were done eating if we did not hurry in to get washed up. Being like we were, we fooled around a little more until we heard that. Then the race begun like every other time.
My brothers, being older and bigger, took the lead. I didn't mind, I knew when Mother disappeared out of sight over the grass, she would stop and wait for me. We never had Father in our life at the time. I was hers. The boys had already gone long past her and me, on their way to see who would get grandfathers seat first. But as I watched where I was going, something made me look up. Mother never walked out of sight this time. She had fallen. Usually, when she falls, she laughs as much as I did, like she did with me. But we didn't laugh this time.

I ran as fast as I could, over the embankment to where I thought she was. I could see her a few feet away. She was trying to stand back up. She made it to her knees, then vomited. She had wiped her mouth, looked embarrased, feebly getting to her feet. I ran over to her asking if mommy was ok. She said she was. I can still remember the grip she had on my shoulder at that moment when I went over to help her walk to grandfathers. We took one step and down she went again. I couldn't help it. I yelled out for Mother. The guys somehow had heard me from across the field where they were wrestling. They immediately stood up and ran. One to grandfathers, and one to our Mothers boyfriends house, which was right next to grandfathers.

I was trying to help Mother up, but she couldn't stand. She tried to talk but she couldn't seem to form the words. All I can remember saying is, "Mommy, it's ok. Your just sick like I was." How I tried to comfort her through the fear that raced through me was unbelievable. The fear and panick on her face was the most terrifying. The next thing I knew, Mothers boyfriend was driving down across a part of the field we were told not to go in, because of the metal that was left there. He didn't seem to care at the time I guess. Grandfather was there too. He had run across the field and picked up my Mother. He told me to go over to the boys, which were over on the other side of the field crying, staying with eachother. I didn't want to leave, but I knew I had to. I backed up towards my brothers, while my grandfather carried my Mother over to the car and got in the backseat with her, as her boyfriend sped away with them.

My brothers took me over across the road with them, to the neighbours. Apparently grandfather had yelled out that something had happened and she was left in charge of us. She tried giving us dinner, which the boys had easily eaten no problem. I wouldn't speak, eat, or do anything. Until it started to get dark. Then I had asked her where Mother was. She didn't know what to say. I could tell by the look in her eyes, the sympathetic look I had grown used to in the last few months after Mother and Father had their last fight. She just held me. I remember her whispering everything was ok, but I knew it wasn't.

I stayed in the window, watching the bridge, waiting to see them come back. Mothers boyfriend's car had a significant sound. I remember that. I always knew when it was around. I heard it sometime after dark. I didn't wait or say anything to anyone when I ran out the neighbours door as they pulled in the driveway. I ran out yelling Mother, but stopped when I seen grandfather getting out of the passengers side. I had stopped running to them and just watched. They had left with my mother in their arms, and came back without her. I stared at my grandfather and asked him, "Where is mommy?" He just looked at me, then turned to our neighbour. He had tears in his eyes. The first time I have ever seen my grandfather cry. The first of a few times. My mothers boyfriend hugged me and said we would be staying at grandfathers house for a while, until Mother had gotten better. He then drove to his place, packed a bag and left again. This time by himself.

I had a lot of trust for people then. I was a very attached little girl to many people that I liked. I knew things when they happened, without being explained. My brothers asked all questions, but lost attention before they recieved an answer. My mother had two younger brothers. One that was just younger then her came home as soon as he could from Ontario when he heard to care for us. He threw his life away for his family. It may not seem like it, but I have a great dept yet to be repaid to him. I had gone weeks without talking to anyone, barely eating or drinking.

My Mother had been left in t he hospital, almost meeting death. She had two strokes. A minor one which I was so unlucky to view. The other had happened that night, after the doctors had checked her and couldn't find anything wrong. It was 2 months before I was allowed in to see my Mother, only for moments at a time. 7 months later, they let her come home, not walking. She had lost her speech and ability to function properly. She had started to learn to speak over. She could say almost everyones names over, but when it was time to say mine, she had to look at her boyfriend to help her. She couldn't remember my name for a long time. Thats where the name Sis came from. A lot of people call me that these days. She could say that, so I didn't mind. She was back, but it wasn't her. I knew that as soon as she came in the door. She didn't even look like Mother anymore. This was someone else in Mothers body, impersonating her, and failing. She had also learned to walk again, so now she has a limp in her right leg, her right arm is lame, and a speech impediment.

This is the best she will get. To this day, I have not seen her in about 6 months. I couldn't deal with the self pity, the constant hatred from her anymore. She wished she had died that day, so she wouldn't have to deal with her three ungrateful children. She blamed me for that. Her suffering. She is now currently living in the United States, engaged. I have yet to meet the fiance. Im glad that she finally moved on and is happy in her life. After everything she has put me through, I still believe that she deserves to be happy, for what she had been put through herself. I love her, and i always will, no matter what she may think