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Last words

So, I have a writing assignment in my English class where I have to write a dialog as part of a transformation paper. A self-introspection piece, if you will. I picked something I never talk about. Ever. Well, rarely. Ok, ok, I "talk" about it, but mostly I write about this part of my life only once a year and I share only a small, small, small portion of what went on. I chose the last "conversation" I had with my mom. It was a monologue that's for sure. I told her that I loved her and if she stayed I'd change my mind about going to Long Beach State and stay home and go to school in town. That conversation happened at 1 AM and she passed away about 3 hours later. I was half expecting a miracle that she'd live a little longer. I also ended up not going to LB State putting what I thought what I wanted to do on hold.

I have to read the conversation I had with my dad prior to talking with my mom out loud in front of my English class in about 12 hours. At this moment, I don't know if I'll get through it without tearing up.

I just hope I don't have to read the final draft in front of the class. This paper has already revealed a part of me that I thought that I'd never see. In the end, I found that I am a selfish child. My dad has a cancerous mass on his kidney and for a small moment, I found that I didn't care. My only surviving parent could have a malignant cancerous mass and could die if it has spread at all. Even now, I am loathing that moment that has settled itself in my memory and can't be erased away to show the loving, caring daughter that I want and should be. Especially considering I only have one parent left here on earth. Seriously. I am cringing at the thought of that day when my dad sent me a text that I didn't care to respond to.

I am a horrible person. (side note: I told my institute teacher about my experiences with General Conference and how some of the talks were a kick in the pants for me. After class she gave me a hug and said, "Joyce, you are a good girl. Don't forget that." I had tears running down my face as I left class because all weekend I thought about was that brief moment of not caring what happened to my dad. I don't know. I've had this brewing in my head the past couple days and I hate myself for being so...unconcerned. Blase. Whatever you want to call it.)

So people, be kind. Don't be so self-centered, self-involved, self-serving that you forget the important things in life.

*ETA: So I did the dialog. Actually, 2 people from the group I was in had to read it for the class. It made my English Professor cry - which I actually got a kick out of - and it made me realize that I do care. I just didn't know how to react to the thought of the possibilities of what could happen.

Comments

Laura said…
hear hear! Kiely's dad was sick and she didn't care, your not alone my friend! You are a good girl and I love you!
October 7, 2009 at 9:46 PM
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