Off The Record
My Mom Told Me Not to Visit for 3 Months Due To ‘Renovations’ — When I Decided To Surprise Her, I Discovered The Ugly Truth She Was Hiding
Mia’s mother insisted she stay away for three months while her house was being renovated. However, something felt off. Mia shows up unexpectedly and discovers the door unlocked, the house oddly clean, and an odd odor in the air. Mia is going to discover a terrible secret.
I drove through deserted streets as the city was just waking up. Everything was bathed in gentle hues by the early morning light, but I couldn’t get rid of the sickening feeling in my stomach. There was a problem.
My knuckles went white as I tightened my grasp on the steering wheel. I could hear Mom’s voice in my head, reliving all those rushed phone calls and strange justifications. “Oh no, honey, I’m not able to host you. With all these renovations, the house is a complete wreck.”
But not seeing her for three months? It wasn’t typical of us. Her and I used to be as close as thieves.
I waited at an intersection, wondering what had changed. Mom had always taken pride in our home and was always making improvements and updates. However, this felt distinct.
She usually sounds so exhausted when she speaks on the phone these days. Sad, even. And each time I attempted to push her about it, she would ignore me. “Mia, don’t worry about me. How’s it going at work with that major project? Has that promotion come your way yet?”
I knew she was hiding something from me, but I had been too complacent about it.
I was driving across town way too early on a Saturday morning because I was having a terrible sense that something was amiss.
My heart fell as soon as I pulled up to Mom’s house. Usually, for Mom’s pride and pleasure, the garden was neglected and overgrown. The flower beds were dotted with weeds, and the rosebushes appeared to have gone months without being clipped with pruning shears.
“What the hell?” I whispered. After turning off the engine, I hurried to the gate.
As I got closer to the front door, the sound of my footsteps filled the quiet morning. I tried the handle, and it turned with ease. Unlocked. That was nothing like Mom.
My skin tingled with fear as soon as I entered. Neither dust nor construction supplies were visible. There was also no trace of paint cans or a drop cloth. What fragrance was that, too? Citrusy and sharp. It was an overly antiseptic and immaculate facility. similar to a hospital.
“Mom?” I exclaimed.
Not a response.
My gaze scanned the foyer, coming to rest on a well-known picture resting on the side table. I think I was seven or eight years old when we went to the beach. Mom was laughing and giving me a backward hug as I smiled at the camera, my teeth showing holes from the sunburn.
Fingerprints marred the glass, mostly across my face. It was strange. Mom was always washing things down, keeping everything pristine. However, it appeared as though someone had been touching the picture a lot—almost obsessively.
A shiver went through my body.
“Mom?” I called once again, more insistently. “You here?”
At that point, I heard it. Something creaked faintly from upstairs.
As I made my way up the stairs, my heart pound. I could feel the silence closing in around me. I headed toward Mom’s room along the corridor, trying to calm my breathing.
“Mom?” Now my voice was hardly audible. “It’s me. It’s Mia.”
I pulled open her bedroom door, and the world appeared to tilt on its axis.
She was there, in her bed, trying to sit up. However, this isn’t my mother at all. Faint and emaciated, her skin sallow against the white sheets, was the woman in front of me. And her hair, my goodness, how gorgeous it had been! All that remained was a scarf around her head.
“Mia?” She hardly raised her voice above a whisper. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”
I stood motionless at the doorway, unable to comprehend what I was seeing.
“Mum? What… What took place with you?”
Her familiar brown eyes, now sunken in her frail face, met mine. “Oh, sweetheart,” she moaned. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”
I fell to my knees at her bedside and staggered over. “What should I find out? Tell me what’s going on, mom, please.”
She extended her slender hand, and I took it in both of mine. It was as brittle as the bones of a bird.
Softly, “I have cancer, Mia,” she whispered.
Time stood still, and all I could focus on was the hollow sensation in my chest and how dry her lips appeared when she talked. My breathing stopped.
“… undergoing chemotherapy for the past few months,” she said.
“Cancer? However, why didn’t you inform me? Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “My goal was not to cause you any trouble, my love. You’ve put in a ton of effort to get that promotion. I had the impression that I could manage this alone.”
I felt a sudden, fierce surge of anger inside of me. “Take things in your own hands? I’m your daughter, mom! I ought to have been present! I ought to have been aware!”
“Mia, please,” the woman begged. “I tried to keep you safe. I wished you wouldn’t see me looking so frail and…”
“Protect me?” With tears clouding my eyes, I interrupted her, raising my voice. “By deceiving me? by excluding me just when you most needed me? How were you able to accomplish that?”
Mom’s face creased as she began to cry as well. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “Mia, I really apologize. I believed that what I was doing was correct. I wanted to avoid being a burden.”
Careful not to shake her too much, I got onto the bed next to her and drew her into my arms.
“Oh, Mom,” I said in a hint. “I could never consider you to be a burden. Never.”
We just held each other and cried for a long while as we sat there. The agony and terror of the previous few months erupted in a torrent.
We eventually settled down, and I helped Mom settle down by giving her pillows to support her up. I walked downstairs and made tea for the two of us, my head spinning from what I had discovered.
I sat on the bed’s edge in her room again and gave her a steaming mug. “So,” I murmured, attempting to maintain a calm tone. “Tell me everything. right from the start.”
She did, too. She informed me about her amazement, dread, and diagnosis. How, before I even realized there was a problem, she had begun treatment immediately in the hopes of recovering.
Her voice was shaking as she replied, “But it spread so fast.” “By the time I realized how bad it was, I was already so sick.”
I softly squeezed her hand as I grasped it again. “Mom, do you not understand? I cherish you. Each and every one of you. Even the terrified and ill portions of you. Particularly those sections. That is the purpose of family.”
She turned to face me, sorrow and love mixed together in her eyes. “You know, I’ve always been the one with the strength. You are amazing. I had no idea how to be someone else.”
Despite my tears, I grinned. It’s my turn to be the rock now, though. I’m not leaving, mother. Alright, we’re all in this together.
With a faint smile pulling at her lips, she nodded. “Okay.”
Later that week, Mom and I moved back in together. Even though all we could do was keep Mom as comfortable as possible, I also took time off work and asked for every favor I could to get Mom the best treatment possible.
We laughed and wept together, exchanging memories and stories during her last days with us. And I was right there at her side when it ended.
She said, “I’m sorry, Mia,” in a whisper. “What I desired was… I didn’t bring you to Disneyland. I’d take you camping in the mountains, as I promised. I have violated so many promises.”
“It’s not important.” On the bed, I drew nearer to her. “What counts is that you helped me whenever I needed it. When I made a mistake, you always had the ability to put things right and make me grin.” I gave it a smell. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you, Mom.”
Her eyes snapped wide, and she gave me a shaky smile.
“Mia, you’re going to be OK. You are such a strong girl, my dear daughter. I adore you a lot.”
I wrapped my arms around her and gave her the tightest hug I could manage. I’m not sure when exactly she slipped out of my life, but Mom was gone when I finally drew away.
I stayed there for a long time, rehearsing her last words in my head and attempting to cling to the warmth of our final embrace while tears tore at my body. Despite the fact that it was impossible, I tried to keep her with me.
I think the toughest thing I’ve ever done was say goodbye to Mom. However, I wouldn’t exchange our time together for anything in the world.
Since that is ultimately what love entails. It’s being present, despite difficulties. It’s being present, even in the most difficult times. It’s refusing to let go and clinging tightly.
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