What She Didn't Tell Me

I remember the cold January night that my mom was diagnosed with cancer for the second time. I remember standing behind her at the sink while she washed the dinner dishes, and I will never forget what she said. She told me that she wasn't ready to die yet because her kids weren't done being raised. I remember it breaking my heart. Maybe it still does.

I remember the morning after she went to the hospital to die 3 1/2 years later. I remember sitting on the end of the hospital bed and telling her that it was ok to go, that her kids were done being raised, and I remember wondering if she could hear me.

Now I wonder if maybe I was wrong. If maybe, at the age of 17, I wasn't near being done needing someone to raise me. I've tried for so long to do a good enough job raising myself, and now I've realized that for five years I've been constantly searching for someone to finish raising me. Now I wonder if maybe I'm ready to give that up. If maybe I'm ready to GROW up.

For a few weeks now I've been on the brink of a huge decision. I've tried not to ask anyone what they think I should do, because I want to make this decision on my own. I want to be a grown-up, for once, and I want to know that I am capable of making a big decision on my own.

Last night a friend told me that part of growing up is no longer thinking that it is selfish to do what makes you happy, even if it makes someone else unhappy. She said that I should follow my heart, and I would know what to do. I told her that I was afraid of making mistakes, and she reminded me that mistakes make you who you are. All of these thoughts have made me more capable of thinking of taking the leap that I fear.

I hope, beyond anything else, that my mother would be proud of me. I hope that I make the kinds of decisions that wouldn't disappoint her the way they often disappoint my dad. I am confident that she has sent all the surrogate mothers (and big sisters!) that have crossed my path since she left me, to help guide me and teach me the things that she didn't have time to teach me. I hope I'm doing a good enough job at growing up.

I'm finally ready to grow up. It's not running away anymore. It's moving on. And I'm embracing it.