About Me Misc. Debris Pictures Hates Loves/Faves Quotes Contact Me | Everybody thinks they know, but they could hardly comprehend. They think they have some idea of who I am. Maybe they have known me for years, but I assure you that they don't know. How would they have an idea? I work very hard to keep most people from knowing me too well. For example: the morning after Easter, 6 years ago. An hour before its time to leave for school I am awakened, but not by the usual person. Instead of my mother, on this particular day, my older brother wakes me with a strange tone in his voice. Its hard to understand what he is saying this early in the morning. ''Kevin,'' he says, 'mom won't get up, so I'm taking a taxi to school. Grandma and Grandpa are on their way over.'' I nodded and slowly rolled out of bed to take my shower. Not more than a minute after I got out of the bathroom, my grandparents showed up. My grandpa started helping me make my lunch while I was eating breakfast and my grandma went upstairs to see my mom. Not much time passed before Grandma came back down the stairs and over to the phone. It was almost immediately clear to me, from the look on her face and the fact that the number she called was only three digits, that something was wrong. It seemed like forever and no time at all before the doorbell rang. From where my grandpa was helping me make a sandwich, I could clearly see who was being let into the house. In and upstairs went 3 firemen and 2 paramedics. The police stayed in the entry to talk with my grandma. Nobody knows how traumatizing watching them carry my mother down the stairs and out of the house was for me. The look on her face, as she tried to look at me would have torn mountains down. Then, I had to still go to school, and try having a normal day. Imagine pretending everything was normal all day, at a school where you truly have less friends than you have fingers and toes, when you don't know if your mother is even still alive. Eventually the social worker came to get me, and gave me the update. My mother was alive, but she had overdosed on pills in a suicide attempt. The way my heart sank and my stomach churned almost caused me to throw up. For the next month, I had to live with my father and my brother. Every week we stayed in a hotel from Sunday night until Friday afternoon. On the weekends we made the hour drive back to his house to do laundry and relax. Ha, relax while my mother is at some hospital being evaluated and treated. Sometime during those four strenuous weeks, while we waited for an update on her status and to get my brother and I transferred to schools near my father, I received a card from my mother. This was no ordinary, hallmark 99� card. No. This card came in a large yellow envelope with all sorts of stamps and marking, one indicating the hospital she was at. When I opened this card, the first thing I though of was something from kindergarten. It was, after unfolding it, a large heart-shaped card, cut out with scissors and gave the edge a pattern, and painted by blowing dyed bubbles on it. I still have it and look at it every now-and-again. Signed ''Mommy's love is forever.'' Please pardon the tears, its not like anyone else, save for my brother, was there with me. | |