My mothers signature

There are times in your life when it feels like you are in a movie and telling yourself "nah...what ever, just move out of the way before the train smacks you" because you have seen it before and know what is about to happen.   But you just stand there. Waiting to prove the ending wrong.  Looking down the tracks, you see the light.  A pin size, then a pencil size, a plate size light and before you know it, it is right in front of you.  Just wishing you would have moved. Hoping you are on the right side of the tracks, only to catch the breeze and feel the energy radiating from off the ground.  To tell yourself...see I knew I would not be hit.  But dammit, if only that was true.

I remember the day I returned back to school after my mother had her first surgery.  I was in 9th grade at Buckeye High School.  I was out for a week.  Out due to my mother had no one else to help take care of her.  I remember.  I was called into the principles office.  I remember sitting in the hallway.  Nervous.  I was a quiet person.  Never demanded attention, nor did I really want it.  To fly under the radar to not get caught up in others drama.  But I sat there.  Finally, I was called in.  Okay...........breathe.

I remember the diatribe of the policy of attendance. How important it is to be in school.  How important an education is...blah blah blah.  I remember thinking I would have rather been in school than at the hospital, at home, changing bandages, helping my mother throw up.  I would have loved to have been in a classroom, sitting in boring lectures.  Getting caught up in drama in the hallway.  But no, I was not.

I remember the principal asking why my mother did not come to this meeting.  I simply looked at him and said "Sir.  To no disrespect to you, but I have had other things to worry about than having my mother call and explain why I was not in school.  My mother has cancer.  My mother is a single mother, with 3 children.  We do not have the luxury of having help.  We are on welfare. We do not have friendly neighbors to come help us.We live in government housing where people would rather be doing crack.  So, if it is alright with you, I will gladly write you an essay of what I have learned and been educated on that is not taught in school.  But I promise you I studied hard.  I will have my mother write a letter of excuse and attach her hospital discharge papers if you need.  But I will be in school when the doors are open, because I would rather be no where else, if only to get a break.

I still have the essay I wrote. With my mothers signature. What I would do to have her here to sign this.