My heart can feel the tears as they pour into my heart. I tried to put
a shield around my heart to protect it from all the hurtful things and words and
actions, but when they come from the family that you love so much, my shield just
seems to melt away, and all the pain rains into my heart and soul.
Not too long ago I was going through a crisis in my life. It was every
woman's nightmare. They found a lump in my breast and it had changed into a mass and
was very painful. Even though I knew how my family could be, all I could think of after the doctor
called and gave me the news and told me there would be more tests and most probably a biopsy,was
that the very first person I wanted to call was my daughter, Tiffanie. My heart was racing and my fingers were shaking as tears ran down my face. After all, she is my flesh and blood, and
I yearned to hear her voice and words of comfort. I longed for her to tell me not to worry and that everything would be fine. I wanted to hear her say that she would be here for me when I
needed to talk, cry, or just hear her voice. I needed to hear her say that she was here
to support me.
Well, when she answered the phone all happy and in her perky voice, the
moment she heard mine, her voice changed to a lower tone. I said to her, "Tiffanie, I
need you to be in my life now and I really need your support for what I am going through,
as I have no one else to be that person." As I told her about the mass and how it had
changed and was pressing against a bone, which was where all the pain was coming from,
she did not say a word. So I continued to tell her what the doctor had told me to expect
and what I had to go through, and I said that I needed support through this as does
every other woman who goes through this. I waited to hear her response, not thinking that
I had to beg her for her support which should have been offered way before we or I even got
to this point in our conversation. Well, she told me that she would think about it, and I
held back my emotions and tears as I said, "Okay. I love you, sweetie. Goodbye." I
barely got the phone hung up before I uncontrollably burst into flowing tears that were
raining pain all throughout me. I wondered what I had done to deserve this? I do not have
money or material things to give to her in return for her support. I must have cried
for hours before I could even begin to get control of myself. I do not understand why
they do this to me. All of them tell me something differently. It is never the same story.
I raised both my kids, Tiffanie and Joey, with love and compassion. I taught them to
treat others the same way. I told them that everyone has feelings and that they should not
intentionally hurt others, and that if they did by mistake, that they were supposed to
apologize and ask them to please forgive them.
They detected the change from lump to mass in December and I went through
three mammograms and two sonograms to be sure, and I waited for all that to get over with
before I called my daughter. By the next day I was still crying every time I even thought
that she had to THINK about supporting her own mother through something like this. I had
done it for friends and strangers and even for my own mother who only called me because of
that. I offered my mother words of comfort and support and reassurance that all would be well,
and told her stories about what my friends had been through and how it had all turned
out fine in the end. Well, my mother's scare turned out well, so she has not bothered
to call me again. At least not until her next crisis.
All I could think of was how I had not been able to see my grandchildren
but for one time in their lives. They all take vacations, but do not bring them to see
me in these beautiful mountains. No...they have never seen my home. Again, the pain
and the tears. I almost wished that it was true and that I did not make it, as this pain
they put me through is too much for me to take. I thought of all the camping trips and prom
nights that she had, and how when she was a baby and a toddler, too, how good she was. How
much I loved and spoiled her and took her everywhere with me. I could not bear for her
to be left with someone else. I would not have been able to enjoy myself because I would
have been constantly worrying about whether or not she was alright. But that is the "true"
mother in a "real" mother. How could things have gone so wrong? The questions filled
my head, as the tears and the pain continued.
The phone rang and I thought, "Oh my gosh, Debbie, get yourself together.
Hurry!!!!" I ran to the phone and as I answered, "Hello," it was Tiffanie. I felt
so thankful to God that she was coming back to me and that she would be by my side, if
even only by phone! She began to talk and it did not register in my brain. Her voice
was not her voice. It was mechanical, or like voices you get whenever you call the phone
company or doctor's offices. This was not my lil girl. She told me in the same voice,
"I cannot do this for you. I cannot support you through this, but I will say a prayer."
Dumbfounded and numb, and cold as a corpse, I asked her, "Why"? She told me that she
was not ready to be part of my life. I wondered to myself when did she stop being
a part of my life? Your family is always a part of your life, whether they choose to be
or not. And then she said, "Oh I will let you talk to your grandkids though, and you
can call them now." I told her I forgave her and that she really needed to be
herself...the daughter I gave birth to and raised as a single mother most of her life.
I told her I loved her and then said goodbye. I fell to the floor and cried. I cried
until there were no more tears. I cried until my eyes were swollen. I cried for myself.
I cried for her. It was truly Raining Pain!! A pain I never want to have again. However,
I keep on forgiving and praying and asking God to please CLEANSE and HEAL all of our hearts, minds, and souls.
I also ask for your prayers. After months of different tests and a biopsy,
they have told me it is okay for now, but I have to have checkups every three months. I have
just now been able to write about this, as the pain is so intense for me.
Copyright 2004 Debbie Cantrell Bowers