Narrative Essay: Whats my why ?
My mother and I did not occupy the typical mother-daughter relationship. There were times when we went without speaking, or even years passed without seeing her. While she did not even live 3 miles down the road. I saw her when I looked into the mirror because I looked like her. I heard her laugh because ours were identical, and the small details we shared would remind me of the relationship we were missing, the relationship I felt everyone took advantage of. My heart yearned to have this relationship.
Tonia, my mother, tried her best to be a good mother, but most of the time she would neglect to fight her own demons. She lost her mother at the age of 13 to suicide, because she felt abandoned by her father because he was an alcoholic. She never saw what a happy home felt like, and she did not know how to nurture it in her new life. She stayed where her past traumas destroyed her, she wasnt living emotionally, or spiritually in the present. Tonia was in bondage and did not live fully alive. As a child, my mother became jealous of how my father loved me. Its as if she had to come between our relationship because she then felt my father didnt love her enough.
For years, I sat in the place of judge and jury, as I had no idea why my mother behaved in this way. Instead of being compassionate, loving, and merciful, I hung on to anger. Why wouldnt my mother love me? Why is it that she could love my brother James? I felt unnoticed. Was it because my brother honored her even if she disagreed with her? All the what if has been overwhelming my mind for years, to the point where I would believe my thoughts.
Growing up, we had this huge, beautiful house. Let me tell you it didnt feel like a home. I felt like it was a mask for family and/or friends because behind closed doors it was not humble and there was not much love. It was broken as if there was a curse in those walls. My parents would work 12-hour days to pay for a mortgage, while we were left at home. James would play the Xbox and be obedient to some rules. I was the child who wanted to play with the children in the neighborhood.
James had social challenges when he was growing up, which led to individuals picking him up. On my first day of high school, I punch a male student in the face because he made fun of my older brother. That student never bullied my brother, nor did anyone in the entire high school. My father, Bill, took me out for ice cream, while my mother was disappointed. I was surprised by my mothers disappointment.
One day in November my parents and I received a text from my brother individually saying, I hope you live happy lives and thank you for raising me. I love you. That is the last thing my brother said to me before ascending into heaven. As if our family wasnt divided enough. Its like I didnt exist or that my heart was beating. I was hurting and in so much pain. My older brother ended his life due to the psychological wounds of war. I still remember my mom draped over my brothers coffin as if I was in a lifetime movie. I kept asking God, why would you allow this to happen? From that moment- I hated God. I could not wrap my head around why this would happen to someone who loved everyone regardless of if they did him wrong. I could not fathom my only brother felt so alone that he thought he would be better without him in it. War really messed him up. I remember when the movie, Dear John came out and he walked out of the movie theater due to PTSD he gained from war.
Grief is not a one size fits. We all grieve differently. It took my parents nine years to remember that I was still breathing and here. Or to even realize I existed. By no means am I stating that it was wrong because who am I to judge on how to deal with losing their first-born child? During the 9 years without him, I felt completely alone, I would go to my parents for help or guidance, and it was like I was a burden for asking. My birthday would roll around and I was told it was just another day, while my brothers birthday rolled around and there was cake, balloons, and intentionality behind his day. As of today, I have spiritual maturity a
nd my heart hurts to know my mom walk through losing her mom and firstborn. The child who helped her break away from addiction to knowing love existed.
Immediately after my brother passed, my father, Bill started a nonprofit organization to help those with wounds of war know the resources they had. My dad wanted to ensure no one left without knowing there is more to life. He named this End22 in the memory of James Ciccone. My dad dealt with his grief by helping others in similar situations, while my mom wept alone. All while pushing me away. At times, I will say its like I didnt exist. As I have been growing in God, I realize that Our God doesnt cause confusion like this. In John 10:10, The thief comes only to steal, kill, and destroy. That moment I realized the enemy was trying to turn my head from God and did not want me to make it to shore. I had the power to flip the thoughts that I consumed around me. That is what I decided to do. I tried to understand it wasnt me that they didnt love. How could I ask my parents to love me when they were broken? They just lost a son and here I was thinking about what about me?
While all this was happening my mom and I continued to flow with pride instead of being like a river in one anothers lives. I started going to therapy twice a week to ensure I didnt pass down the pain to my kids. For years, I tried becoming close to my mom. She was not having it at all. Years had passed, and I was sitting in my therapists office when she asked me to be vulnerable with my mom, give her a clean slate and genuinely forgive her. I laughed, and immediately state, that is not going to work. Of course, I had a Christian therapist who then reminded me of who Peter was and How Jesus invited him back with love and arms wide open. Jesus gave everyone mercy and grace. I walked away praying for the Lord to soften my moms heart.
I remember praying in fear prior to calling my mom. I would be lying if I wasnt transparent that I was really hoping my mom wouldnt answer the phone. At this time, my mom did not have my number as I changed my number to ensure my parents wouldnt have my number. While the phone was ringing, I hear my moms voice for the first time in forever as she said, hello? I nervously said, its Ashley, give me five minutes. At the beginning of the call, you can tell I was nervous. I had to even plea to keep her on the phone to listen. I dont know what I said, because the Holy Spirit was speaking through me. If you only knew this divine miracle-working through my mother and me. You would have heard her heart soften. From that moment on everything was history. When I say ALL chains were broken after that conversation, it is like a weight came off her shoulders. Conversations would lead longer and longer every time we spoke, I started to go visit her every single weekend. I live about 6 hours away. She became the best friend I always prayed for. God worked the impossible. After feeling so lost the majority of my existence, he gave me what I prayed for my entire life. I had my mom see me, love me, and know me for me. It was like she was walking beside me in life. My mom was no longer captive of her past, all the chains were gone, and she was free. I finally saw her living fully alive.
On July 7, 2021 I received a phone call from my father. I was at ocean breeze waterpark, and if were being honest I wasnt expecting to receive a phone call. My dad had the same voice he had from the day my brother completed his life. My dad didnt even tell me, he was just so broken and lost of words. When I asked him whats wrong, I started naming things off. When I asked where mom was he said shes gone. I remember yelling and crying. God just took my hero who won the battle over Satan. I thanked God for the redemption and reconciliation he gave my mom and I. Shortly after losing my mom I surrendered my entire existence to Jesus to show my honor of what he gave my mom and I. I have been going ever since. I miss my mom. The number 7 in the bible means completeness and the day my mom and I spoke on the phone that following Sunday she rededicated her life to Jesus. This is my why.