Angela Cerone

Angela Cerone, Class of 2021

One time I was with my friends. We were talking, and everything was normal. One of their moms asked them to do a chore, and suddenly, it was the biggest inconvenience to them. Out of nowhere, they had started to completely trash talk their mom. Saying things like, “I hate my mom,” “my mom is so annoying,” “I don’t feel like helping her; she does nothing for me,” and e.t.c.  The whole time I was just sitting there staring at them, wanting them to stop. They had noticed I wasn’t saying a word during their explosion, and when they had stopped, I looked at them and said, “you need to stop. You can’t be so ungrateful. At least you have a Mom.” Now, I don’t know what was going through their mind, but whatever it was, I am glad they gave it a rest. They gave me a surprised stare and said “I’m so sorry,” and stopped. 

That sort of thing happens way too often. I hate hearing people say those god-awful things about their mothers. Everyone has their own story, which is why you have to be careful with the words you choose. 

Throughout my life, I had known my mom was sick, but when I was younger I didn’t fully understand what it meant. That was until I was older, and I fully understood what was going on. My mom had an extremely rare form of cancer. So rare that doctors would end up testing different methods and treatments on her because they didn’t know how to best treat her. In elementary school, every year I would have to tell my class what I was going through because I would be gone a lot. I used to go with my mom to her appointments in Boston, with my older sister. My dad would be at work in Billerica, Massachusetts from 4am- 6pm. So, as you can imagine, there would be a lot going on, all while I was so young.  As I grew older my family started to tell me more and more about my mom’s condition. It wasn’t until middle school where I had almost fully understood what was going on. Fast forward to the 7th grade. Of course, that is still young, and as I said, I didn’t fully understand how bad my mom’s medical state was, but I could still understand. Now, I am not going to get into much detail, but in the 7th grade, my mom did pass away. 

Throughout the years, I had to learn and do things that most girls my age didn’t have to worry about until they were older, things I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. My mom was the hardest worker you’d ever meet, no matter how much pain she would be in, she would either be cleaning something, cooking something, or even painting a whole house by herself. She passed that trait down on to me. I think it is so important to have that work ethic in your life. Things aren’t going to be handed to you. You have to work to earn the things in your life.

Next time you see your mom, give her an extra hug and tell her you love her. I would kill to be able to see and be with my mom again. Don’t complain if your mom asks you to do something for her. Respect her, and do it. She’s grooming you for the real world.