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My Mother's Cries-A Reflection of My Experience of Witnessing My Mother's Pain

This is a very personal journal entry that I decided to post because it is a different type of writing for me. I probably won't even post a link, so whoever sees it, sees it.



So I awoke Saturday morning at my parents' house. I opened Facebook while still lying in bed to see a picture of my great aunt and uncle. My eyes scan the picture and I thought, "Oh, it must be Uncle Sherman's birthday." But as my eyes scanned up, I saw the letters R, I, and P. My eyes looked back down at the pic, to remind myself of who I had just seen in the pic and back up to read the caption from the beginning. My heart dropped. Although I hadn't spent much time with him, I was always fascinated by Uncle. I saw my MoMo, my mother's mother when I looked at him. But as I laid there in shock, my thoughts immediately went to my mother. I listened, but I didn't hear a sound. Too many times over the last few years, I've been alerted of the death of a family member by the sounds …