Anyone who knows me would easily be able to point to the one point in my life that turned my ship in a direction I had never imagined! While the moment when I lost her did change a lot of things for me--inside and outside--the real turning point in my life happened long before that fateful night. About two years before.
I totally hate that my light-hearted drawing challenge is becoming such a mush-affair with this one (and nothing here is sad, it's just nostalgic), but I don't want to leave a lie drawn on my blog for my generations to read (YES, that's how long I plan to blog here, hehehe).
The real turning point in my life was when I saw my closest person struggling with her health. Doctors, hospitals, path labs, tests, reports, medicines, syringes, the works! Ughh!!!
I pray NO BODY has to EVER get into that cycle of hospitals and treatments, because it is just too painful for the one suffering and those around him. The two years when I saw my mom go in and out of treatments, meeting doctors, trying therapies, medications, etc, led me look at life in such a different way. It turned and twisted something within me each day... one day at a time.
Those two years tested my mom, my family and me to the extremes. I saw a lot of people reacting in strange ways. I was young, but I started getting exposed to a life without a shelter. No one to save me from injustice, harshness and abuse that the world inflicts on all of us. But I was really young for it all.
Just one fine day, I was not the kitten wrapped in my mommy's arms, safe from anyone and anything. I was out there, exposed for the world to throw its realities at me.. and I was too young to even build an armor. There were those who looked me in the eye and gave me strength, and there were those who looked me in the eye and gave me the shivers.
I struggled to figure out who to trust and who not to. I was a little girl.
Impressions of those two years, whether it is the memories of my last days with mom or the memories of people around me, are so fresh in my mind even today... over a decade later... that if I sit and think for 10 seconds (and allow them to haunt me), they would start flashing like a high-definition movie playing in front of my eyes.
Well, while I and everyone else thought that I was a little girl, I happen to remember every single word that anyone said to me or about me; I happen to remember just how it all made me feel; I can't forget the bruises and abuses--mental, physical and emotional. I was a chubby little girl, but I remember it all. Everything!
There's such pure joy and such crude pain trapped in the memory of those two years that I don't think I will ever be able to forget them, or even let them fade.
I totally hate that my light-hearted drawing challenge is becoming such a mush-affair with this one (and nothing here is sad, it's just nostalgic), but I don't want to leave a lie drawn on my blog for my generations to read (YES, that's how long I plan to blog here, hehehe).
The real turning point in my life was when I saw my closest person struggling with her health. Doctors, hospitals, path labs, tests, reports, medicines, syringes, the works! Ughh!!!
I pray NO BODY has to EVER get into that cycle of hospitals and treatments, because it is just too painful for the one suffering and those around him. The two years when I saw my mom go in and out of treatments, meeting doctors, trying therapies, medications, etc, led me look at life in such a different way. It turned and twisted something within me each day... one day at a time.
Those two years tested my mom, my family and me to the extremes. I saw a lot of people reacting in strange ways. I was young, but I started getting exposed to a life without a shelter. No one to save me from injustice, harshness and abuse that the world inflicts on all of us. But I was really young for it all.
Just one fine day, I was not the kitten wrapped in my mommy's arms, safe from anyone and anything. I was out there, exposed for the world to throw its realities at me.. and I was too young to even build an armor. There were those who looked me in the eye and gave me strength, and there were those who looked me in the eye and gave me the shivers.
I struggled to figure out who to trust and who not to. I was a little girl.
Impressions of those two years, whether it is the memories of my last days with mom or the memories of people around me, are so fresh in my mind even today... over a decade later... that if I sit and think for 10 seconds (and allow them to haunt me), they would start flashing like a high-definition movie playing in front of my eyes.
Well, while I and everyone else thought that I was a little girl, I happen to remember every single word that anyone said to me or about me; I happen to remember just how it all made me feel; I can't forget the bruises and abuses--mental, physical and emotional. I was a chubby little girl, but I remember it all. Everything!
There's such pure joy and such crude pain trapped in the memory of those two years that I don't think I will ever be able to forget them, or even let them fade.
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