Mom and Her Hair

This is the first expressive paper that I wrote for my college English class.  My teacher was awesome, and the class consisted of only 6 of us.  They had to keep the class because we had the minimum number of students.  It's one of the most unique classes that I've ever taken.  Forgive possible wording issues and poorly phrased ideas, but it was my first real paper and I have left it in its original state.  I will always remember September 11th because it's my mom's birthday.
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Her hair never wanted to stay down, and the same was true for her. Mom had dark brown hair. Her hair was almost black, being from Italian descent. I cannot remember a day when her hair was laid flat on her head. It was apparent that nothing would keep her hair down or even in a style.

Her spirit was just as free. It was like a wild mustang on an open field. Her confirmation name was Philippe which literally means “lover of horses.” She was around horses until after I was born. In fact, my dad proposed to her on horseback in the middle of the woods. It was pouring rain at midnight as well. She indeed loved horses, but in a way, she could relate to them as well. She was very active outside and she never liked being inside. On those occasions when she stayed inside, you could watch her brown eyes as they darted to every window in the house, longing to be outside in the sun. Her dark tan further implied how much she enjoyed the outdoors. Sometimes, Mom and I would just sit on the front porch and watch our dogs play in the grass. The dogs would play and get so tired while we just sat and laughed. Just sitting out there seemed like such a great thing to be had.

Mom was one of those people who could not be kept down. Her attitude was as wild as her hair. Anything in her life could not have prepared her for 1996. In the spring of that year, she was diagnosed with cancer. When the family heard, we all thought that it was a big deal, and indeed it was; but Mom did not see it as a disability. In fact, in a way it might have been a blessing in disguise. No matter how much the medicine ravished her body, she would keep active in her weakness. Her hair fell out because of those drugs, but eventually grew back in. She may not have been able to enjoy the sun all that much, but she never let that get to her. I could see her stubbornness as clear as day.

Mom was her own person, and she was not going to listen to what people said if it was going to interfere with her enjoying life. Mom was stubborn, but never in a bad way. She defied nearly everything that the doctors had told her. She did try to stop smoking, but other than that she was still enjoying life. The doctors had suggested that she change her diet. They had also said that it was a good idea to cut down on doing so many things that she had always done. Her whole life, Mom had worked for other people and it was hard for her to adjust to not working so much. She was set in her ways just as her hair would never lie down.

In her service of others, she was a waitress and even a nurse in Vietnam. She would always tell me about her time spent in Vietnam. Instead of hiding the memories like most people, Mom embraced them. Her time in Saigon was spent helping people. She would help people without prejudice. No matter how bad the situation may have been, she always tried her best.

Mom was in one situation that had actually sent her home. She helped a Vietnamese child one day without knowing the consequences. The child had a bomb wrapped up in a towel, along with the arm that he was missing. Mom sent him up to the top floor for treatment. Without warning, the bomb went off. The building collapsed and she, being the highest officer there, had to get all the others out. As she ran out the doorway, the steel door collapsed on her legs. She was sent home and was left with steel in her leg muscle. She later recovered and kept on with her life. From hearing all of her stories, I realized how determined she was. Just like her hair fell out and grew back, she did the same. Her energy may have fallen, but it soon came back. Her determination never left though.

When that diagnosis came, I thought that we would never be able to do the things that we used to do. We would go into Troy every Saturday just to window shop. We would spend the whole day on Main Street just enjoying the incredible day. Usually, we would go to any restaurant at all and stop by the park to eat. It was not much, but for Mom and me it was a great thing to do. Riding in the car on those Saturdays was always fun too. I, being an inquisitive child, would always ask the curious questions any normal kid would ask. However, when it came to curiosity, we would usually get on the topic of how she grew up or some of the serious things in life. She liked to talk about her father, whom I never met. He was an immigrant from Sicily who always tried to help anyone, even though he was a stranger to most and just an immigrant to others. I guess that is how Mom’s attitude about everything came about. During those car rides, I learned a lot about Mom. Those things, I thought were gone because of the cancer.

As it turned out, I was completely wrong. The cancer passed without Mom taking any further treatments. Everything became nearly as normal as it was before. For four years everything seemed to be going alright. In 2000, cancer invaded her body once again. The diagnosis was not as hard on everyone this time because of what had happened earlier. Friends came over on Christmas to fix dinner for her. Once again, her stubborn attitude became prevalent. She longed to be in the kitchen fixing that supper. However, those friends kept her from working too much and that dinner turned out fine.

Mom always made the best out of life, no matter what the situation. So many people were touched by her presence and so many people were affected by her loss. Mom lost her fight with cancer early in 2002. Her hair had grown gray streaks in it. It showed how much she had been through. The dark brown still lingered as to say, “I made it through all this.”

She is now next to my dad in St. Alphonsus cemetery. She gave so much to that parish that we thought it would be fit to let her rest there. Even now, I see my Mom in me a lot. I know that she influenced me a lot in the things that I do and the things I say. Even how I act towards people has been influenced by her. My hair still sticks up in places, and I can’t calm it down.