I don’t remember my first sleepover; most kids do. They get excited to sleep over at their grandma’s house or their best friend’s house. It’s a huge milestone: “the first night away from Mommy and Daddy.” When my mom was sick she constantly had appointments, either with chemo or a marriage counselor. My brother and I were always having sleepovers. Constantly having to be handed off to different people because of my unstable household has definitely had a huge impact on who I am today. It made me responsible for my brother. It has caused me anxiety and high stress. It has left me without an important role model. It has forced me to navigate uncharted waters that I never wanted to face alone. I lost my mom to pancreatic cancer when I was around eight years old. I was old enough to know what was going on. When the social worker sat me down in my mom’s hospital room and told me that I wasn’t going to have my favorite person anymore I ran and hid behind the hospital bed and sobbed uncontrollably. I remember her cries of frustration and I remember connecting straws together to form one long straw so that she could drink water without needing to use energy to sit up. I remember my brother having to go live with my cousins for six months because of the situation. My mom held us together and my dad was not ready to step up into the position. This trauma has affected how I treat people and live my life. I’m not very trusting and tend to be controlling. I’m very Type A; I like things just so. I want things organized. I need a routine and schedule. I am a result of my past. My need for stability was born from my unstable childhood. I can say it’s not fair, I can cry until no sound comes out but it won’t change a thing. My favorite quote by Lachlan Robbie says, “life is like a garden, it is always the most beautiful flowers that are picked first”. We all know someone who didn’t deserve to die. They had a beautiful life and a beautiful family. Yet they were ripped out of the ground by big meaty hands. I tend to keep things to myself as well. My dad doesn’t like emotions, so I keep secrets and I keep my problems to myself. I don’t have a person I can turn to. This has made me independent. They say that I am mature for my age. I’m only mature because my childhood was ripped away from me. I was forced to be like this. Forced to become a second parent when my dad was never there. My mom’s cancer journey deeply affected how I view the world and shaped me into the person I am today. I miss her dearly and wish every day that she could see all the things I have accomplished. My mom was an amazing woman, a hard fighter, loved by so many people. I try to tell her story, which has also evolved in mine, hoping that others can relate to or learn from my experiences.

I don’t remember my first sleepover; most kids do. They get excited to sleep over at their grandma’s house or their best friend’s house. It’s a huge milestone: “the first night away from Mommy and Daddy.” When my mom was sick she constantly had appointments, either with chemo or a marriage counselor. My brother and I were always having sleepovers. Constantly having to be handed off to different people because of my unstable household has definitely had a huge impact on who I am today. It made me responsible for my brother. It has caused me anxiety and high stress. It has left me without an important role model. It has forced me to navigate uncharted waters that I never wanted to face alone. I lost my mom to pancreatic cancer when I was around eight years old. I was old enough to know what was going on. When the social worker sat me down in my mom’s hospital room and told me that I wasn’t going to have my favorite person anymore I ran and hid behind the hospital bed and sobbed uncontrollably. I remember her cries of frustration and I remember connecting straws together to form one long straw so that she could drink water without needing to use energy to sit up. I remember my brother having to go live with my cousins for six months because of the situation. My mom held us together and my dad was not ready to step up into the position. This trauma has affected how I treat people and live my life. I’m not very trusting and tend to be controlling. I’m very Type A; I like things just so. I want things organized. I need a routine and schedule. I am a result of my past. My need for stability was born from my unstable childhood. I can say it’s not fair, I can cry until no sound comes out but it won’t change a thing. My favorite quote by Lachlan Robbie says, “life is like a garden, it is always the most beautiful flowers that are picked first”. We all know someone who didn’t deserve to die. They had a beautiful life and a beautiful family. Yet they were ripped out of the ground by big meaty hands. I tend to keep things to myself as well. My dad doesn’t like emotions, so I keep secrets and I keep my problems to myself. I don’t have a person I can turn to. This has made me independent. They say that I am mature for my age. I’m only mature because my childhood was ripped away from me. I was forced to be like this. Forced to become a second parent when my dad was never there. My mom’s cancer journey deeply affected how I view the world and shaped me into the person I am today. I miss her dearly and wish every day that she could see all the things I have accomplished. My mom was an amazing woman, a hard fighter, loved by so many people. I try to tell her story, which has also evolved in mine, hoping that others can relate to or learn from my experiences.