The Longest Root

I was only nine years old when it all happened. My father left us when I was too young to remember. My mother never told me the exact reason why my father left us but she did tell me that he was not a good father figure. That was enough for my young self to not further ask questions. I was raised in good hands so I never felt like I needed to find my father's identity. My mother was also working two jobs while she raised me and my sister. She would work while I was in school and she would come home around six in the afternoon. She always relied on picking me up from school and to take care of me when she was not home.

  On a typical day, she would come home and eat dinner with us, then go back to work and work a night shift. Therefore, my sister was always taking care of me and we were super close. It was almost as if she played a mother figure for my mother since she was always on the lookout for me. And my mother was usually always working to provide for us. Although my sister played a huge role in my adolescence, that didn't last very long though. One day when my sister picked me up from school I noticed something about her, she wasn't her usual self. She was usually excited to ask me about my day at school and we would always stop for a quick milkshake. But this time none of that happened. Of course, I couldn't ask her what was wrong with her and expect her to answer with a good reason, what was she going to tell a nine-year-old?

 The whole car ride was awkward, very quiet and when we got home she went upstairs right away. this had never happened before and I was just too anxious to ask her what was wrong. I remember thinking that I didn't think much of it and shrugged it off my shoulder and that same afternoon when my mom came home the tragedy occurred. I remember my mom got home from work and she asked where my sister was but I told her I had no clue. When I said that she seemed very surprised because that was never the case when she got home from work. My sister and I were always waiting in the kitchen with food ready for us to eat dinner. So when I said that she immediately went upstairs. Six years later my mother told me that she had found my sister laying on the floor with bottles of pills scattered around her. She overdosed and I had no idea. I never knew what happened to my sister. I just knew that she had disappeared for some reason. My mom's excuse for this was that she was only sick and was getting better at the hospital. Years later after she told me the story and she said my sister is healing in rehab.

 My mother told me that she had finished when I was only eleven years old. However, when she was finished she was required to stay in her room before she interacted with any of her family for some reason. My mother also told me that in the time she was in her room she overdosed again. I didn't even get to see her the first time and I had no idea she completed rehab the first time. She had to go back to rehab and she didn't finish until I was fifteen years old. I always wondered what caused her to think that drugs were the best solution. Was she stressed? If so, about what? Was she mad that dad was not around? Was she mad that mom wasn't always around to give her attention? I always tried to think that my mother was giving her the attention she needed. She was constantly working and my mother worked hard to give us what she thought was right. However, I sometimes felt that she got carried away with providing us with materialistic things that she forgot to realize that what we needed the most were her presence and comfort. I knew that my mother did everything she could to keep a roof on our heads. She did everything she could to prove that we didn't need a father figure. And we were the best at doing this, but she also needed to realize that family was more about love. 

Whenever they gave me the news that we were going to go see my sister because she had finished rehab I didn't know what to feel. I was nervous, anxious, scared and I felt so many emotions going through my body. I didn't know what to expect from her. When we arrived at the rehab center I sat in the waiting room while my mother left to go check out my sister from the center. When she finally came back with her I lost my breath for a second. I could not believe that I was looking at the person who I was a huge part of my early adolescence. The one who played a mother figure for most of my life, It was her. She came running to me and hugged me so tight. At that same moment, I felt as if I had reunited with my long lost best friend. It was a special connection that I had never felt. After that moment, we cherished every moment we spent together. We grew closer than ever. Her and my mother had a really deep conversation unlike ever before and their  relationship was also stronger than ever. She accomplished her one-year sobriety and we all celebrated with our family, we were so proud of her. After all these years of not seeing each other and life was perfect with my sister in it. I realized that after all these years, even though we grew apart, that did not change the fact that our roots were strongly connected.