As with many people, There are so many times, countless times in which I dread the family that I have. I wish so hard that one day I would wake up and it would all just be a horrid nightmare. I would walk downstairs, go into the kitchen and I would see the picture perfect family that I so desired, and I would live happily ever after, with that horrid nightmare fading away quickly with time. But we are not that lucky. But as time goes on, we do end up loving the family we were thrust into regardless of their imperfections, their bad habits, their annoyances, and of course no matter how much we can’t stand them.
Just the other day, I learned a valuable lesson on being grateful for the family that I have. I live with my mother and two little brothers and they are all that I have. Not because the rest of my family have passed away or anything, but because there is no close connection with any other relative, and living in different states plays a huge part in that.
I was at work, and suddenly my cell phone rings, I see that it was my mother calling, but I simply ignored the phone call and went about my day. Then ten to fifteen minutes later, the phone at work rang and it was my mother on the other end. I can hear her crying on the other end, she told me she had just been hit by a car, and the ambulance is rushing her to the nearest hospital. I was in complete and utter shock, I never expected to get such a phone call, but then again, who ever expects such phone calls. Just the little bit of information I received over the phone, my mind went wild, all types of scenarios crossed my mind.
What if she can’t walk? What if she has some broken bones? What if she’ll need me to wash and bathe her from here on out? What if she can no longer find work because she is disabled? What if I have to drop out of school and get a full time job to support the family? What if I can’t finish school and do what I dream? What if? What If?
Then on my way there I started to think and I realized that I wasn’t ready for her to go yet. I wasn’t ready for her to need me to take charge of things. No way, but if my what if’s turned out to be reality, what choice did I have? None.
Upon arriving to the hospital, I frantically searched for her room, and as I entered her room, I learned what being grateful was. Being grateful is the emotional realization that you are lucky enough to have what you have because in a matter of seconds it can be taken from you without notice.
She isn’t a perfect mother, no mother is. I didn’t get to choose her, but I definetly wouldn’t change her. I’m grateful.
Are you grateful for your family?