It’s only minor

I won’t lie, I can be kind of a mush ball. Add some hormone altering chemicals into the mix and you got yourself a blubbering basket case. I’d like to think that 80% (probably 35%) of the time, the emotions I display are kind, loveable and caring. Queue the laughter of my family as they remember the last time I started to cry because the number I was trying to get through to wouldn’t pick up. Well that’s neither here nor there, moving swiftly on, I want to give praise where praise is due. She works behind the scenes. She keeps a roof over my head, all sorts of food on my table and is a good basis for all my jokes. It’s Momma Bear Carty. Oh she will absolutely kill me if she read this but I know she won’t so I have free reign to say whatever I want.

You know when someone blends into the background, content with giving everything and expecting nothing in return. She would wake up every morning and physically squeeze oranges to make fresh OJ to ensure I was getting my Vitamin C. Even if it took twenty minutes squeezing as hard as she could, she would arrive down to my bedroom with a refreshing glass of juice, with a straw of course. Without question she would always be two steps ahead, trying to plan how she could help ease what I was going through, even a tiny bit. She wished she could do something more to help so she comforted me in the way she could; by mammying me rightly. All the while she was doing this I would still never lose an opportunity to jeer or mock her; some of my best material was developed during this time. As shit a time as it was, it helped us get so much closer. Renaming her ‘Positive Mary’, the whole house regularly use her new phrase ‘It’s only minor’. Think about it, it’s an awesome phrase. You are pissed off about missing a bus, burning the dinner and suddenly life around you crashes down. The fury bubbles within you. And then you say to yourself ‘It’s only minor’. What is happening to me right now surely can’t be as bad as the time I had an infection and had to stay in hospital for two weeks. The Carty household now lives by this motto. We are all getting matching tattoo’s next year, Mammy included. You know what, if I asked her to get one she probably feckin would if she thought it would help me.

We have grown so much closer in the past year and half. Becoming closer in such a difficult time, banding together, helping each other. It makes it all so much easier. I always look forward to going home to Wicklow to spend hours asking her opinion on things, twerking in front of her as she tries to drink a cup of tea or just generally tormenting her in some way. We can chat about things so much easier now; my bowel movements are a frequent conversation starter. It just amazes me though, the love a mother can give her son/ daughter and how selfless they can be. How hard it must have been for Mam to see me lose my hair, feel so sick, crying in pain and not be able to fix it. It must be a mothers idea of hell. I often wonder when I am in bed at night and a tear escapes as I think too much, what is Mam doing in her room? No doubt she is praying, hoping, wishing, all of her thoughts is most likely focusedon me. How exhausting for her. How bloody annoying that she has to go through this. It makes me so angry. Throw anything my way, I don’t care I will fight it. But the people I love, leave them alone, let them be happy. I have always wondered what is worse; having the cancer or having to watch someone you love have cancer? I am a proactive person so I sound crazy but I can deal a lot more with the first scenario than the latter. I don’t know how Mam does it, wake up every morning with a smile on her face and always taking any of my moods without retaliation. Patience of a saint that woman. We hold each other up, support each other and it’s the only way I have found works. Trying to act strong and do it alone is a recipe for disaster. Don’t get me wrong at times I become the biggest martyr. No matter what though, Ma is there waiting and ready to help me in any way she can. I am really very lucky. During a testing time like this, you really learn to go back to basics and appreciate what you have had in front of you all these years.

mooma bear

One Comment

  1. Oh Sarah what a touching piece dedicated to ur mammy.she must be soo very proud of you.i know I would be if u wer my daughter you keep up the positivity and we are all rooting for you.u can have no better friend than ur mother stay strong Sarah . hugs and kisses to you xcc

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