From then on for the next 2 months, I went to go visit my Mum EVERYDAY. Even if it was for a minimum of 15 minutes I’d still go. I’d go and I’d sit with her and tell her everything. How well Aminah slept or how many times Naima fidgeted in bed. Or what the kids are wearing to even when the last time they ate was. No matter how bad the situation that my Mum was in, she still managed to be the amazing Mum she is! At times it’d make me cry actually, which may sound silly but is true. You see, as any Mum would do, before I left she’d always remind me to make sure my baby sister Aminah has been fed some milk and has a fresh nappy on before she goes to sleep. Making sure that all the laundry don’t get mixed up with the clean clothes etc. And it’s these little ‘warnings’ if that’s what you want to call it, is what’d make me cry. Because on a normal day, I say normal because these were my expectations, my Mum wouldn’t ask of these things from me because she’d do it herself. As a Mum, she’d make sure we were well fed and were happy, no arguments. She’d make sure our clothes were ready to wear and it was my Mum who’d make sure everything was kept tidy.
But because my Mum was practically useless, so weak and unable to even walk to the toilet from her bed which is only a few footsteps away let alone move her body to get into the position to get up was impossible at the moment, it was all down to me as the oldest to learn the ‘basics’. Which at the time weren’t really basics at all. I mean, I knew how to change a nappy and I knew how to make a bottle of milk. But I didn’t know how much the baby would want or how hot it should be. I didn’t know when the nappy is ‘full’ and I didn’t know why the baby’s crying. I didn’t know how to wash the clothes and I didn’t know how to sort arguments. I didn’t know how to sort the bedtimes and I didn’t know how to feed the kids. I had to learn a lot of things which I guess I should’ve known at my age anyways. But I guess as a teenager who’s reliable on her Mum, I didn’t really pay attention to how much is really done. You all must be wondering where my Father is in all of this. Well, my Dad is, well was, the kind of Dad who’d only do what he ‘has’ to do. Drop us all off to school, go work and get the money needed to maintain the household. We’d probably see him a few hours before bedtime and the only time we’d ever really spend time with him would be on a weekend or holiday. Even then, he’d be at the gym or with his mates. So my Mum was left to do everything to be honest.
Me and my Dad, we’re not that close. Well we weren’t as close as we are now. The only time I’d ever really have a proper conversation with him would be to complain or ask. And as bad as that sounds, it’s true. My Dad, don’t get me wrong isn’t the antisocial type, he’s always making us laugh and knows how to have a good time ‘when appropriate’ :/, he’s close with the other 3, but not as much with me. We don’t really have that supposed ‘father daughter relationship’. So, the thought of being left alone with him to keep the house in tact with basically, the ‘3 Naughty Musketeers’ didn’t really comfort me. For he was exactly like me, a beginner.
But it’s not like we were alone; I have such an amazing supportive family Alhamdulilah and they were always there. Bringing food in and inviting us round and even taking us out, so that the younger lot didn’t feel that their Summer was somewhat ‘ruined’. My Uncle Jay and Aunty Halima even lived with us in the period of time that my Mum was in hospital. Aunty Halima even put her work on pause to make sure that we were okay. She was always there and so was Uncle Jay, and even to this day are. I don’t think I’d be able to do it if it weren’t for them, holding us tight in their arms as we cried at the thoughts of Mum, making us laugh, to even giving us that spark of hope when we gave up. For, the struggles of my Mum’s brain tumour being removed was complete, but the long road of recovery ahead of her and everyone as a family, lay ahead of us in the far, far distance.
There were good days and bad days, and some I’ll find hard to write about. Simply, because the memories will come flushing back. But, this is the story of MyMumAndMe and I want it to be as honest as possible with my emotions with certain scenarios. For if it weren’t for both the good and bad, the people, the tears, I wouldn’t be writing this now.