My mother passed away from breast cancer when I was twelve years old. She worked to put food on the table as my father drained his paycheck, and I recall her as a kind, exhausted woman who always cringed at his harsh remarks.
He told me to get a part-time job as soon as I reached 14 to help pay the bills, and when I was 16, I quit school and began working full-time to support both him and myself.
However, my father’s eyes were devoid of both thanks and sympathy when he finally came to visit me at the hospital. The doctor said that there had been tremendous compression and bruising, even though my spine had not been severed.
It’s quite unlikely that I’ll be able to walk again, but I’ll probably spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair. And my father left at that point. “She’s over eighteen, isn’t she?” he asked the doctor. Isn’t she an adult? I am no longer responsible for her. You take her.
I recall my father’s eyes running over my lifeless legs and my doctor’s appalled reaction. “It’s useless! Just as useless as your mother!
For the following six years, those were the last words I would hear from Dad. I was moved to a rehabilitation facility a short time later, where I had the good fortune to be paired with a therapist by the name of Carol Hanson.
Love, not a biological tie or a common ancestry, is the foundation of a family.
She was an elderly, maternal woman who took me under her wing right away. Carol was incredibly demanding and loving at the same time. She helped me become well over the course of the following year, something I never thought was possible.
Carol and I both sobbed uncontrollably the day I took my first step and stood up on my own two feet. It was just the start, and I put in even more effort over the following few months before I was officially declared healthy.
For me, it was a moment of mixed emotions. Even though my wounds had healed and I could walk normally again, I was still afraid. I had no family and nowhere to go. I felt completely alone.
I was crying when Carol came in. She wrapped her arms around me as she sat next to me on the bed. “It’s okay to feel afraid, Jenny,” she told me. You are beginning a new chapter in your life.
Remembering other patients departing with their loved ones at their sides, I muttered, “I’m alone, I have no one, and nowhere to go.”
Carol firmly stated, “No, you’re not. I’ve been meaning to speak with you about that.” Do you want to live with me? Just till you regain control of your life.
I did, and it was beautiful. Because Carol and I got along so well, she gave me my own room, which was the most gorgeous room I had ever seen. With tears in her eyes, Carol clarified, “It belonged to my daughter.” “Like you lost your mother, I lost her.”
When I walked down for breakfast, I noticed some interesting posters from the local high school offering night programs for people who wanted to finish their secondary education. The following day, I began searching for jobs on Carol’s computer.
Carol strongly stated, “I believe you should return to school in order to return to college.”
My jaw fell open. “A university? College is out of my price range! I let out a gasp. “If I don’t find a job soon, Carol, I won’t have a dime to my name and won’t be able to support myself.”
“No, Jenny, you can’t afford not to go to college,” Carol said, shaking her head. Listen, I’ll give you the money, and you’ll repay me once you graduate, much like you would with a bank student loan.
In any case, she persuaded me to do it, and I promptly applied to the nearby college and finished the high school requirements. I’ll admit that Carol’s example motivated me to pursue a career in nursing, and I finished with honors four years later.
I began my career at a nearby hospital and eventually became an expert in neonatal care. I was interviewed by a television crew one day while they were doing a news report about a pair of identical triplets.
I was somewhat famous for a spell, but the publicity brought me an unwelcome guest. I was shocked to see my father standing there when the doorbell rang and I answered it.
He smelled of alcohol and perspiration, and he looked awful, like a bum. He said, “Jenny, my darling baby girl!” and held out his hands. “I’ve located you once more at last.”
“Rediscovered me?” “You left me in the hospital because I was useless, remember, like my mother?” I questioned fiercely.
He forced a couple of tears out. “Oh, my darling,” he cried. “Pardon me, I was shocked and afraid. Would you not turn your father away now? I haven’t been feeling well.
I told him icily, “You look fine to me,” but my trained eye had already picked up on the yellow tint in his eyes and complexion. He had a liver condition of some sort, most likely brought on by his drinking.
He walked slowly. “Jenny, I’m unwell, and Daddy needs you badly.He licked his lips thirstily and said, “And. “And I have no money for food, darling, I’m broke.You won’t leave your father without food, will you?
“As if you abandoned me to my destiny? In a wheelchair and helpless? You know who I am, “DADDY.” Leave. I walked back into the lounge after slamming the door in his face.
Carol grinned as she glanced up at me. “Jenny, who was that?”
“Oh, just a guy trying to sell something!” I went to the couch, took a seat next to Carol, and gave her a tight hug. Carol gave me a hug in return.
She said, “Jenny, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.” Do you think I could adopt you? Become your mother? since you are already my daughter in my heart.
I broke down in tears and couldn’t stop. After being cursed with a horrible upbringing, I was fortunate enough to grow up in a loving environment with a parent who loved me.
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