I once heard a saying in life that miracles are a gift sent from above. Miracles give people the gift of hope. All I can conclude from this is that life works in mysterious ways.
It was a day that I would never forget, I was going to have a baby sister after all. My mother's water had just broke and everything in this house was in chaos. I was just standing there by the front door smiling and watching all the commotion, knowing that at then end of this day we would be an even bigger family. It was an exhilarating day, dad rushing to grab the baby bag in case this would happen sometime soon. He was so preoccupied with getting everything into the car he had forgotten mom. Until he heard the screams of mom from the kitchen. I quickly ran over and she grabbed on my arm telling me to get her to the hospital already.
"DAD! You can't forget mom!"
He ran inside the house, panting, "I am so sorry, I was just so anxious and it slipped my mind..."
"I DON'T CARE JUST GET ME TO THE HOSPITAL!" My mom was clearly on her breaking point now. Dad quickly picked her up from the chair and helped her to the car as I followed from behind them. We past the baby's room on the way out and I couldn't help but take a second look. It's empty now, but not for too long.
The ride to the hospital was unlike any car ride I have ever been through. Dad ran at least three red lights and mom was in a constant state of agony as the baby kept telling her it's time for me to come out. We pulled up to the ER and parked the car outside as my dad ran in and got a wheelchair. He wheeled her in and disregarded the fact that I was still there. I guess that meant I had to park the car. I didn't mind, this is what happens when parents decide to have a baby after their first one is already 17. I pulled the car around the hospital and into a parking space. I ran back to the hospital and asked the nurse where I would find them, "Third Floor, Room 316."
I raced up there, stairs, since the elevators would have taken far too long. I found them easily since I believe my mothers voice was the loudest on that floor. I came in and was given a gown to wear over my clothes. I guess in case some bodily fluids or whatever comes out during pregnancy should come flying out at me. I've only seen a birth on TV before, never this close up or this loud for that matter.
"DOC, I need that spinal tap now, this baby is not waiting any longer!"
"Jeannette, you need to take deep breathes, okay? Just like how you've been practicing," Dr. Marshall tried to calm her down, but he clearly does not know my mother well enough.
"GIVE ME THE DAMN SPINAL TAP!"
And what my mother demands, my mother gets. It sure shut her up though, she was feeling better as soon as her contractions went away and that needle went into her back.
The doctor came back to check up on her after about thirty minutes and said that the it was time. She was properly "dilated" down there. A more formal way of saying she was about to pop.
"Okay Jeannette, it's time. Greg, I need your help here okay? Keep her calm."
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" My mom kept screaming at the top of her lungs as the doctor kept telling her to push.
"One more, give a good hard push! I see the head! Jeannette you're almost there!"
And there she goes again, screaming even more. It was like a movie, the ones where a happy ending is about to happen and the audience is anticipating it. That moment when the baby comes out and is given to the mother to hold. A miracle in her hands.
"Okay Jeannette push one good last time!"
And then came cries, the baby was here.
"Dad? Will you do the honors?" My dad went over and cut off the umbilical chord, a real honor for the dad. Dr. Marshall handed the baby over to him to hold and he showed me. She was beautiful, gorgeous, and small. She was so small. She was so full of life.
"Hon, want to see our beautiful baby girl?" My dad walked over to my mom but there was something wrong. She wasn't opening her eyes and the monitors started to make that screech and monotone noise and the line was flat.
"Jeannette! Hang in there!" Dr. Marshall was screaming at my lifeless mothers body as he reached for the paddles and turned them on. "Clear!" And pumped it on my mothers chest, but nothing was happening. "Greg, you and your daughter need to leave now! Go to the waiting room!" We headed out but I kept staring at her, laying there still and no breath was leaving her body. She was pale and sweaty, her eyes were pierced shut and her head dangled to the left. What happened to my mother who was screaming a minute ago and had birthed a miracle into the world.
"Dad! What's going on? Why isn't mom waking up? I don't understand!" I piled on these questions to my dad as he just sat in the chair nearest the double doors. He just stared at them. Watching them wobble close and he didn't speak. For the next hour we just sat there together. Holding each others hands, with nothing to say.
Today birthed a miracle, a beautiful baby girl. Six pounds. Her name was Jeannette. Named after the mother who gave her life to let this miracle live on this planet when one was taken away. She was beautiful and she was a mirror image of her. She was the miracle that got to live.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Different
When you're growing up, you only think a certain way. That life is a storybook that has already been written for you. The villians are the robbers and the heroes are the police officers. The world was a simple concept to grab ahold of: eat, do your homework, take showers, and play. Once you hit that tween phase, where you're not really a teen but not a child anymore and your body starts to change, well that's the phase that I'm talking about. People stop sheltering you and you start to realize that the world is much more complicated. People can hurt you on purpose and have no feelings towards it, well you learn that those are the villians now. And the heroes? Well they become you're best friends, the ones that help you through this awkward phase of life. Then you become a teenager and you learn about love. Yes, you've now reached the "love" part in the story. You fall in love for the first time and it's like nothing you've felt before. You enjoy what it's like and then you experience your first heartbreak and learn that fairytales do not teach it right. Fall in love once doesn't mean you've found your prince charming yet. And this is when you hit the climax, when you enter adulthood. When you realize that you can't live in a fairytale all your life maintaining an innocence that you have to let go. This is when you venture out on your own and experience things first hand that you've only been hearing about until this moment. It's when you're given the freedom that you have always longed for. It's when you start to write the story yourself.
Live for the experience, because experience will always be the best teacher. - Alan Reese
Live for the experience, because experience will always be the best teacher. - Alan Reese
Monday, December 12, 2011
End of a Legend
"I can't do it," I looked at the small object in my hand. It's a lot smaller than what people would expect. I mean I see it in the movies a lot, they make it seem life changing once you hold one of them. But it's really unimportant and not as life changing. But why could this small object make such a huge impact in the world. It's a lot colder too. The silver hard metal that has been sitting out in the cold for too long has freezed over a little bit. Too cold to hold onto for too long. I observed it for a little while longer as it sits in my lap untouched. Just sitting there waiting for someone to pick it up, waiting to be used, waiting to be fired.
"Just do it!" Jane yelled at me, "I hate this life! I hate everything about it!"
"You cant make me do this, you know I can't do this!"
I couldn't think about a moment that I would have to live without her. Cheesy or not, she was my life. Her beautiful green eyes were covered in black smudges and redder than the blood that would soon cover her body. She was a beauty in disguise beneath all of the imperfections that made her the girl I was in love with.
She reached over and grabbed my hands so tightly that she might as well have cut them off. She proceeded to grab the gun and place it gently in my hands. She was always so gentle with everything. She had this way of touching things with her soft hands that felt like silk running through my fingers. I know that familiar touch of her smooth hands as it ran over my face tracing every detail and surface of my body. It was her touch that I loved the most. It was her touch that kept me sane.
I couldn't lose that.
"Don't put me in this situation," tears started to run down my face uncontrollably. She had never seen me cry before. I never allowed it, I always wanted to keep the macho exterior that I was suppose to give off.
"I want you to be the one that does, there's no one else that I would want to do it.
I looked at it again. This object. I wanted to throw it away and save her from this path. I hated her for this. I hate her for what she's making me do.
"What would happen to me... Have you ever thought of that? I'll just end up losing you!" I looked at her and just stared knowing that this could be the last time I ever see her.
"You'll know I'm happier. You'll know I'm in a better place and you'll know I'll always love you." She rested her head in my lap and I just knew what had to be done.
"Okay..." I lifted her head up and kissed her. I kissed her for what seemed like hours but in reality it was not long enough. I held her in my arms and I told her everything that I could think of. I told her what she meant to me and how she made my life worth living; but most importantly, I told her "I love you, and you know I always have and always will."
"I know, and I love you too, which is why I need you to do this."
I held her tighter and whispered into her ear that I will miss her more than anything and that I love her as I raised the gun higher and pushed it against the back of her head. I softly told her goodbye and held her tighter as I listened to her sob into my chest. I could feel the water soaking up my shirt. I raised the revolver an inch higher so it wasn't against her head anymore but facing me. I told her I'm sorry for what I had to do and shot.
The world disappeared. And then I was gone.
"Just do it!" Jane yelled at me, "I hate this life! I hate everything about it!"
"You cant make me do this, you know I can't do this!"
I couldn't think about a moment that I would have to live without her. Cheesy or not, she was my life. Her beautiful green eyes were covered in black smudges and redder than the blood that would soon cover her body. She was a beauty in disguise beneath all of the imperfections that made her the girl I was in love with.
She reached over and grabbed my hands so tightly that she might as well have cut them off. She proceeded to grab the gun and place it gently in my hands. She was always so gentle with everything. She had this way of touching things with her soft hands that felt like silk running through my fingers. I know that familiar touch of her smooth hands as it ran over my face tracing every detail and surface of my body. It was her touch that I loved the most. It was her touch that kept me sane.
I couldn't lose that.
"Don't put me in this situation," tears started to run down my face uncontrollably. She had never seen me cry before. I never allowed it, I always wanted to keep the macho exterior that I was suppose to give off.
"I want you to be the one that does, there's no one else that I would want to do it.
I looked at it again. This object. I wanted to throw it away and save her from this path. I hated her for this. I hate her for what she's making me do.
"What would happen to me... Have you ever thought of that? I'll just end up losing you!" I looked at her and just stared knowing that this could be the last time I ever see her.
"You'll know I'm happier. You'll know I'm in a better place and you'll know I'll always love you." She rested her head in my lap and I just knew what had to be done.
"Okay..." I lifted her head up and kissed her. I kissed her for what seemed like hours but in reality it was not long enough. I held her in my arms and I told her everything that I could think of. I told her what she meant to me and how she made my life worth living; but most importantly, I told her "I love you, and you know I always have and always will."
"I know, and I love you too, which is why I need you to do this."
I held her tighter and whispered into her ear that I will miss her more than anything and that I love her as I raised the gun higher and pushed it against the back of her head. I softly told her goodbye and held her tighter as I listened to her sob into my chest. I could feel the water soaking up my shirt. I raised the revolver an inch higher so it wasn't against her head anymore but facing me. I told her I'm sorry for what I had to do and shot.
The world disappeared. And then I was gone.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Unstoppable
Molly Rozan grew up thinking she was unstoppable. Nothing could have touched her, not even a scratch. The things that happened to “unfortunate” people were unreal in her mind. She was a superhero in her own world. When tragedy had hit, she had no idea what to do.
December 1, 2008 was a beautiful day. It was the beauty of a dozen ruby red roses freshly cut sitting perfectly on a table with the bright sun shining to give it its final touch, the glow it needed. She went through her usual routine, brushing her teeth, eating breakfast, and going to school. She arrived to school at exactly 7:10 am that day, just in time for class. Everything was going smoothly, nothing out of the ordinary until around 9 am, her whole life changed.
“Are you alright Molly?” Emily asked her as she sat down suddenly.
“Yeah I’m just feeling really dizzy.”
“Well, I can take you to the nurse.”
“No… it’s okay, I can…” before she could even finish the sentence she was falling to the floor, hitting it right on the back of her head. Emily started screaming for help and all of a sudden it was as if the world had stopped and moved in slow motion as Molly regained consciousness. People coming from all sides rushing to see if she was okay, rushing to see just what was going on, rushing to see if she would be okay.
She laid in the hallway that was right next to her Math class and she couldn’t get up. She couldn’t move. An ambulance came to the school about thirty minutes later and immediately took her to the nearest Hospital. It was only 5 minutes away and they were there before she was even settled into the back of the ambulance that screeched loudly to alert everyone that someone was in danger.
She was put in her own room, hooked up to an IV and given fluids. She woke up right when her mother got there. “Oh my god Molly! What happened?” was all her mom could say to her. She looked over and saw the monitors beep to make sure she was still alive. She didn’t understand what was going on. Her mom told her that the doctor was going to be back soon and that she should just wait for the blood work results. Easier said than done.
At about 3:30 pm the doctor re-entered the room. He had a folder in his right hand and his glasses in his left. It’s never a good thing when a doctor takes off his glasses and slides the door closed slowly behind him. Then he proceeded to look up slowly and asked her how she was feeling. How else would she be feeling? She thought to herself, she had an IV stuck in her and no reason why she was even in the hospital.
“I’m fine,” Molly responded after she thought about a good enough answer.
“Well, that’s good to hear,” Doctor Rost responded. He grabbed a chair and sat down facing the two of them. He flipped open his folder and looked through the papers with a look of sorrow painted over his face. Whatever those papers said, it was not something he wanted to tell me.
“Well, there’s no easy way for me to say this Molly,” he said slowly as he reached for my arm, “Molly, I regret to tell you that you have Leukemia.”
She couldn’t speak. The sudden rush of fear took over her like a plague polluting her body. She looked to her right and saw her mom with tears coming down like a waterfall with an endless supply of water coming from nowhere. She couldn’t cry, she couldn’t speak, and she couldn’t feel anything but fear.
December 1, 2008 was a day that Molly Rozan will remember as the day that changed her life. Nothing was the same since.
December 1, 2008 was a beautiful day. It was the beauty of a dozen ruby red roses freshly cut sitting perfectly on a table with the bright sun shining to give it its final touch, the glow it needed. She went through her usual routine, brushing her teeth, eating breakfast, and going to school. She arrived to school at exactly 7:10 am that day, just in time for class. Everything was going smoothly, nothing out of the ordinary until around 9 am, her whole life changed.
“Are you alright Molly?” Emily asked her as she sat down suddenly.
“Yeah I’m just feeling really dizzy.”
“Well, I can take you to the nurse.”
“No… it’s okay, I can…” before she could even finish the sentence she was falling to the floor, hitting it right on the back of her head. Emily started screaming for help and all of a sudden it was as if the world had stopped and moved in slow motion as Molly regained consciousness. People coming from all sides rushing to see if she was okay, rushing to see just what was going on, rushing to see if she would be okay.
She laid in the hallway that was right next to her Math class and she couldn’t get up. She couldn’t move. An ambulance came to the school about thirty minutes later and immediately took her to the nearest Hospital. It was only 5 minutes away and they were there before she was even settled into the back of the ambulance that screeched loudly to alert everyone that someone was in danger.
She was put in her own room, hooked up to an IV and given fluids. She woke up right when her mother got there. “Oh my god Molly! What happened?” was all her mom could say to her. She looked over and saw the monitors beep to make sure she was still alive. She didn’t understand what was going on. Her mom told her that the doctor was going to be back soon and that she should just wait for the blood work results. Easier said than done.
At about 3:30 pm the doctor re-entered the room. He had a folder in his right hand and his glasses in his left. It’s never a good thing when a doctor takes off his glasses and slides the door closed slowly behind him. Then he proceeded to look up slowly and asked her how she was feeling. How else would she be feeling? She thought to herself, she had an IV stuck in her and no reason why she was even in the hospital.
“I’m fine,” Molly responded after she thought about a good enough answer.
“Well, that’s good to hear,” Doctor Rost responded. He grabbed a chair and sat down facing the two of them. He flipped open his folder and looked through the papers with a look of sorrow painted over his face. Whatever those papers said, it was not something he wanted to tell me.
“Well, there’s no easy way for me to say this Molly,” he said slowly as he reached for my arm, “Molly, I regret to tell you that you have Leukemia.”
She couldn’t speak. The sudden rush of fear took over her like a plague polluting her body. She looked to her right and saw her mom with tears coming down like a waterfall with an endless supply of water coming from nowhere. She couldn’t cry, she couldn’t speak, and she couldn’t feel anything but fear.
December 1, 2008 was a day that Molly Rozan will remember as the day that changed her life. Nothing was the same since.
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