A Mother's Love

This is something that I wrote for my Advanced Composition Class and I actually grew to love this. It's extremely personal and I was 16 when all this took place. It was an extremely rough time in my life and I thought I would share.

A Mother’s Love
By: Amanda Pate

Mothers. They have such a powerful impact on their children. From a young age we were cuddled, cherished, and loved. What would happen if that one person, the one who made you feel special, the one who laughed and played with you –what would happen if you were told that there was a strong possibility that you would never be able to have a relationship with your mom again? You would never be able to hold a two-way conversation with her or ask advice. You would never be able to be held or cuddled the same way again. Nothing would be the same. And this is where my story begins.

September 30, 2006 was the beginning of a permanent life change for me. On that day, my mother started complaining about serious back pain; pain that burned in the lumbar portion of her back and would shoot down her leg in a searing bolts. Keep in mind, my mother is strong. She is the strongest woman I have ever come in contact with, yet this pain began crippling her day by day until she became completely and entirely bedridden. By the middle of October, she could not get out of bed by herself and could not take a shower alone for fear of her slipping or falling and furthering her pain. We (me and my family) would take my mom to the hospital at least twice a week, and soon, the doctors that were prescribing my mother pain medications, started dwindling because they thought that she was lying just to get prescription drugs. Only one doctor believed her.

Through this process of deteriorating agony, I learned to grow up and become ‘Mom’ to my two younger sisters (who were both in middle school, while I was only sixteen). I learned to cook for the whole family, to drive my sisters to school and events, and help them with their homework after class. I was learning to become an adult and a mom in the matter of months. My dad was gone all the time, both figuratively and physically. He was either at work, and when he wasn’t there, he was caring for Mom. As children, we had always had two parents to rely on, but life at this time was like being thrown into the ocean without ever knowing how to swim. But then, one day after she was rushed to the emergency room by ambulance, Mom said something that we could not wrap our minds around. With tears streaming down the side of her face to hide in her hair, she said, “Girls, all of the doctors’ tests and the prescriptions haven’t fixed me. The pain is so terrible; if they can’t help me, I’m afraid I may not be able to live through this.” Our hearts broke.

We cried for days after that. None of us had a desire to eat. None of us had a desire to go to work or school. We had no drive to live the lives we used to. Our family was breaking, and we could see it as plainly as we saw the Twin Towers crumble into a heap of destruction on September 11th. The time passed along with the diminishing health of my mother. By the end of November, my mother could not walk without assistance because her calves had little muscle in them. Her legs reminded me of malnourished children in Africa, they were so skinny. We were losing hope.

On November 30th, one of my mother’s doctors called to tell her that the results of the most recent test gave them the answer to why she was in such pain. We were so happy that one of the many tests that had been run proved that she wasn’t just crazy. The doctor assigned the surgery to be on January 4th. We could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

It was Christmas time, and rather than getting excited about opening presents, we were counting down the days till Mom’s surgery. Ten more days. Despite the terrible circumstances, we were able to buy each other presents. I remember specifically that Mom bought us cute journals from an online store since she couldn’t go shopping. To this day she doesn’t remember ever purchasing them.

The day before my mom was supposed to go into surgery, she became extremely sick. A bug had been going around school and we brought it home to her. She became so sick that the doctor was uncomfortable doing the 6 hour long procedure on an unhealthy body. Our anticipation for the surgery was crushed into millions of pieces. We would have to wait 14 more days.

January 24th finally came around, and at 6am, Mom went into surgery. Six and a half hours later, she was put in the recovery room. We were told that the surgery went well but that her bulging and herniated disk was surrounded by one more huge issue: scar tissue was wrapped around her lower spine like a tumor, causing the pain to increase tenfold. The doctor had removed most of the scar tissue and put the metal rods in her back along with multiple screws to prevent it from ever being that bad again. However, that is not the end of my story.

My mom was put in the recovery room, and unbeknownst to my family, she started having hallucinations, and without looking at the chart, a different doctor gave my mother a drug called Adavan. This particular drug is for people with hallucination problems; however, it reacts most severely when used with Elavil, which was what she had been on during the surgery. Once Adavan was absorbed into her system, she became comatose. She was completely non responsive for almost three days. The doctors told us that it was most likely that she had a brain aneurism, and the best possible outcome would be that she would wake up as a vegetable. Our hope in her survival was miniscule.

Now you can start to imagine what it would feel like to be told that there was very little chance of your mom surviving a careless doctor’s mistake. Again, all of us were thrown into an ocean, unable to swim. I didn’t know how to live without a mother; my sisters didn’t know how to live without a mother; my father didn’t know how to live without a wife. Our lives were absolute torture.

To get my mind off of everything, I decided to receive an invitation to a church function, and I will remember forever the events that transpired that night. I was hanging out with a few friends –something that I had not done in a very long while –and our host home dad came up to me and told me that someone was on the phone. I took it with confusion and answered. What I heard on the other end still makes me weep today. It was my mother’s lucid voice. I was so shocked that words couldn’t even escape my mouth, let alone form coherent sentences in my mind. All I could do was cry in joy. My mom was awake. My mom didn’t have a brain aneurism. My mom wasn’t a vegetable. My mom was alive.

After the surgery, was the beginning of the six-month long recovery process. She was able to wean herself from the multiple pain medications that she was taking including, Darvocet, Fentinal, Celebrex, Elavil, and Valium, as well as, work through the constant nightmares she endured while comatose. All of the doctors were expecting her to go through major withdrawals from all the heavy medications; however, at the end of the six month recovery process, the only pain medication that she needed was Advil and she no longer had to live in fear of going back to sleep. She was healthy.

Many people would think that our relationship went back to what it was before her surgery, but I will tell you that both of us were completely different people after those ten months of torture. She was a stronger woman for overcoming both physical and internal pain and I was still learning to become an adult in more ways than one. Even though things began to drop back into the same routine, our relationship hit a new level. We realized that we didn’t just lean on each other as a mother and daughter, but we leaned on each other as friends would. Over the years, my mom has not only been my mother, but I have been able to call her my best friend as well. She is the one who encourages me, who gives me advice, who hugs me when I’m crying, who loves me unconditionally. That is her impact on me.

I Wanted To Be in Eden

This is how I picture the Fall of Man.

I Wanted To Be in Eden
By: Amanda Pate
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I remember everything back in those days, days where I didn’t have to toil with the ground to plant crops. Days that I would run underneath the trees with Him. Days that I would talk to Him face to face. Those wonderful days.

I remember how He had breathed life into my lungs. He gave me life, sweet life. I had never felt so alive than I had in that moment. I would go among the trees He had made grow so tall and strong. It was beautiful, His creation. All His glory displayed in the things He made. The Great Artist, He is. Even the stars He hung in the night sky seemed to sparkle with His splendor.

I remember the day He made my helper; my wife, He called her. I don’t remember this part much. He put me to sleep, and later told me how He took my rib out from my body and from that He made the beautiful creation in front of me. She was another testament to His great glory. He had made her with His own hands. Had shaped the very outline of her face with His fingertips.

All three of us would walk among the garden He had created. We would talk of many things, but one conversation -one important conversation -stuck out above all others. He had told us specifically there was one tree that we were not to eat of. The tree of the knowledge of good and evil, He called it. I thought it was funny, He chose that one of all trees to make evil. It was tall and strong, the branches thick and heavy with ripe fruit. It was appealing to the eye and just thinking about it made my mouth water, but I would obey Him; He was the One who gave me life after all.

All we wanted to do was spend our time with Him. He was a wonder! Everything He did was all glory and splendor. We believed Him fully, or so we thought. One afternoon, after we had just finished our walk with Him, my wife and I walked to the center of the garden. The great tree loomed in the waning light of the afternoon. The sun played a certain dance among the great tree and its branches, making it change from looking ominous to inviting, sumptuous even.

My wife walked a bit closer to the tree and I followed. When she got close enough to touch the tree with an extended hand, she hesitated. And both our eyes caught on an animal by the tree. It was a serpent and it spoke, “Did He actually say, ‘You shall not eat of any tree in the garden?’”

My wife, knowing full well what He had told us, corrected the serpent and told him that we could eat and touch any tree except this one, for if we did we would die.

“You will not surely die.” the serpent mused in its raspy voice, “For He knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like Him, knowing good and evil.”

We both looked at each other. Was it so? Had He tricked us because He hadn’t wanted us to be like Him? Innocence had been all we had known, and this thought, this blasphemy, was planting and taking root within our minds. I remember how it felt; the tingling of new ideas, like I was no longer ignorant of what was being done behind my back.

My wife looked away from me and without a word, took the fruit from the tree and bit into it. She turned and stared straight into my eyes, juices from the fruit trailing down the side of her face. She held the forbidden fruit in front of me, silently seducing me.

I took it from her hand, looking at the fruit’s bright color, the color of ripe. I held it up to my lips and bit into the fruit. An explosion of sweetness made my mouth surrender to its overwhelming flavor and I sucked the juices dribbling from my mouth as I lowered the fruit from my face. As soon as I swallowed the large bite I had in my mouth, its taste became that of ash, not the sweet burst my tongue had met a moment ago.

Something within me changed. My eyes became clearer. I saw my wife standing before me. Her face was bittersweet. She had gotten what she had wanted. She had tasted of the fruit, but we both knew that we had gone against His one rule. I looked at her more fully and saw that she was naked and I saw myself and realized that I also was naked. We both blushed crimson and rushed into the forest to find something in order to cover ourselves with.

We came across one of the many fig trees within the garden and began cinching leaves together to make coverings for us. We had not realized, but night was coming swiftly upon us, and with the twilight, we heard Him walking through the garden. We looked at each other, fear reflecting in our eyes. What would He do to us since we went against His word?

We ran and hid ourselves among the great trees. His footsteps approached as if He knew exactly where to find us, but instead of looking behind the tree, He called after us, asking where we were.

I could not stand lying to Him any longer. I knew I would die today, but I just couldn’t bring myself to lie to Him a second time. I stood out from behind the tree I had been hiding and walked toward Him, my fig leaf-clothes rustling with an unsettling newness.

My head was low; I dared not even look Him in the eye. I told Him that I had heard Him approach but was afraid because I was naked. I was ashamed. My disobedience was repulsive.

“Who told you that you were naked?” He asked. His voice sounded betrayed and saddened. “Have you eaten of the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?”

I could not even nod my head. Instead, I said, “The woman, whom you gave to be with me, she gave me the fruit of the tree and I ate.” I could not take all the blame; she had a rather large part in this as well, but even as the words came out of my mouth, I could still taste the bitterness of the fruit, the sin.

I watched as He turned to face her, “What is this that you have done?” I looked behind me to where He was staring; she had come out from behind the tree that we were both previously hiding.

Her cheeks were a bright blushed pink, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate.” She said in a small voice.
My heart ached within my chest at her confession. We would both surely die now.

His attention spun to the serpent that was cowering, watching the scene from a distance. The serpent approached slowly and slyly, every movement provocative. He cursed it, and made it slither on its belly instead of walk like it had been not but a moment before.

Shamed, the serpent crawled on its belly out of sight never to be seen again. There was a pause in conversation. No one uttered a single word or made a sound. I thought at first He might let us go and just curse the snake, for it was the serpent that deceived us in the beginning.

However I was extremely wrong. He spoke once again to my wife, telling her he would make child labor painful and that as her husband, I would rule over her. He then told me that I would toil with the land and eat from whatever grew, but that it would not only produce fruit and other foods, but thorns and thistles as well, and by my sweat, I would take from the ground until I returned to the dust of the earth.

The judgment was swift and hurtful, but it was just. I still could not bear to look up at Him. He provided us with clothes and then ushered us out of the garden gates, out of the lush green land inside. He appointed an angel to guard the gate with a fiery sword so that we could never enter the garden again.

I looked out among the sparse land. It was empty compared to His beautiful green garden, which was so rich with vegetation. Tears came to my eyes. I looked back at the great angel. He had thick armor and looked fierce with the flaming sword near his face, but it was what was behind him that made my eyes overflow with tears.

I wanted to be back talking with Him amongst the trees. I wanted to run and enjoy the lungs He so graciously breathed life into, I wanted to be in the comfort and shelter of His arms, I wanted to be naked and unashamed.

I wanted to be in Eden.
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Author’s Note: This is based on the story in Genesis chapters 1-3. If this is anyway contradictory to those passages, do not take my word; instead, believe the Holy Scriptures.

This was strongly inspired by God and Phil Wickham’s song ‘Eden’.

I wrote this a while ago, but I have been reading through Genesis for my Old Testament class and this spoke to me all the more, so I thought I would share! :)