My mom is my hero, my role model, my reason for living. A year ago, I had accepted the fact that I would likely lose my mom to suicide, and not only that but I knew it would be before I was able to walk down the aisle, before she could meet my children, before I had truly started my life. After seeing my mom in the BHU for a large part of my childhood, I felt like I had lost her by the time I had grown old enough to understand what was going on.
This past year, my mother decided to finally seek the end of her suffering and moved into a therapy and group home where she spent all of her time healing. Today, I no longer have fear, fear of what the future holds, fear of coming home after work afraid of what I might find on the other side of the door. I have nothing but the upmost confidence in her, and I cannot verbalize how extremely proud I am of her for the steps of courage, faith and optimism she has taken. I have seen her grow from someone suffering into a strong, vibrant, and confident woman. Her journey has been momentous, and I have no doubt in my mind that she will continue striving. She has accomplished things that are beyond incredible, all while being my mother, comforter and best friend. My love for her is forever and she will always be what I strive for, and no event in time has ever changed that for me. My hero, and my everyday reminder to cherish life, because Life is Good.