Doing It All

When Mom got sick, I barely blinked. It was too much to process when everyone around me was falling apart, and someone needed to hold it together. So that was me. While my father and siblings were antsy and worried, I just kept going. When appointments and surgeries were booked and attended, I kept going. And on the day Mom had her biggest surgery, I went to school as usual and scored a 97 on my math test.

I started to sneer at the books and articles talking about ill parents, and the impacts of that on their children. When teachers asked, in concerned voices, how I was doing, I wasn’t sure how to answer. I’m no heartless being, but I really didn’t see the big deal. Of course it was hard to see Mom in pain, but most of the time she was fine, and the doctors didn’t seem too worried. I added her name in my tefillos and squirmed uncomfortably when people told me I was “amazing.” What’s so amazing, I would wonder, as I put Lali to bed and cleaned the kitchen for the fifth night in a row, this is just my life.

The first surgery was successful, baruch Hashem. The illness was gone, Mom was back on her feet, and Dad went back to work again. I put that period of time behind me as another hurdle overcome, and I thought I knew what it felt like to go through something like this. If anything, the whole saga made me surer of myself and my ability to handle challenge. I was resilient, I thought, and Hashem would help me through. Then Nina’s mom got sick.

Nina was never a close friend, but we had always gotten along well. We moved in different circles, but we had a few friends in common who naturally thought that now I would be able to help Nina. And so it happened that I found myself listening to Nina, almost daily, as she spoke about how crazy her life had become, and how “normal” was a thing of the past. I listened to Nina. I tried very hard to understand. But honestly, I really couldn’t. When I heard how Nina was crying into her pillow each night, I nodded, but I didn’t get it at all. When she told me she was struggling with her appetite, I brought her lunch while wondering what on earth her issue was. And when she said she needed help in her house, I went over to babysit, watching as my friend fell apart in a situation which was oh-so-familiar to me. I know, you’re hearing it in my tone. I’m embarrassed to say that I judged her.