I never realised just how fragile life is until now. I have had recurrent thoughts about death before, and how life could crash down in just a second, but until the possibility loomed on me I had taken it all for granted.
When my uncle committed suicide when I was around the age of 7, I don’t even think I understood what was happening. I can’t really remember him now, except for sudden memories that haunt me every so often. That distant memory still sometimes plagues me, yet I still didn’t realise the importance and fragility of life itself.
When my brother became ill with Anorexia Nervosa when I was around 12, I was forced to grow up really quickly and be strong with the rest of my family. He was on the brink of death, and was admitted into an inpatient hospital where he was treated for his illness. However; although extremely difficult, especially with the added pain of him not conversing or sitting anywhere near me due to his fear of my weight, I still didn’t see the importance because he didn’t die. Although close, he was still very much here and was gradually getting better. Hope clouded any fear of death and the fragility of life.
Then my depression that had been there for years got worse as of last year, and I began to seriously consider death as a better option than the hell in which I was suffering in. Although still depressed, I am starting to see a way out. A glimpse of light which I haven’t seen in so long.
My mum has been in serious pain for months now, to the point where she is struggling to walk. She looks really ill, and the pain is blatantly obvious. It’s so hard to watch. She’s been to the doctors, and they referred her for an X-Ray. They then referred her for an urgent orthopaedics appointment. She recently had another X-Ray in which there are changes.
My dad told me she is okay, and should be okay. But when he didn’t think I could hear, I wasn’t eavesdropping he was outside my window, I overheard him telling someone that they have found a tumour. So she is having an urgent MRI scan to see if the tumour is cancerous.
Now I am starting to see how fragile life is. If my mother is diagnosed with cancer, there is the possibility that she may not get to see many sunsets. She may not get to experience any more Sunday dinners. I’m going to have to stop there though, because it breaks my heart thinking about it.