For most people, losing a loved one is often a harrowing and painstaking affair. Furthermore, one can never say that they are genuinely prepared for the moment that someone they love dies. Like Hamlet, in Shakespeare's "Tragedy of Hamlet" most people tend to find it difficult to get over the death of their loved ones. Consequently, their grief makes them live in the past and this, in turn, hampers any efforts of forging ahead with their life. In light of the foregoing, the event that changed my life happened and also shaped me as an individual was when my brother died. I was barely six years old at the time and in as much I was heartbroken after the demise, this loss took a significant toll on my mother and this in turn completely affected my childhood.
Life after my brother’s death was a struggle for me primarily because my mother's attitude towards everyone, including me, changed. She became a stranger in my life and nothing close to the loving mother I once knew. Furthermore, she became very harsh, cruel and abusive, something that contradicts the notion that mothers are supposed to be affectionate and caring towards their children. From the tender age of six years, my mother felt that I was required to act and think like an adult. This assertion is premised on the fact that she would continuously scold and beat me up for either not behaving in a particular manner.
It is worth noting that unlike other children my age, I never had the opportunity to explore my youth. This is because, after my brother's death, my life became a constant rat race of trying to please my mother by ensuring that I attained good grades and also ensuring that our house was in order. Having fun with friends was something I heard from other people but never experienced on a personal level since my life revolved around doing my academic work and my house chores. For instance, I was required to wake up by about 4.30 am every day to clean the house at 5.00 am before my mother left for work. Moreover, my mother could not fathom the idea of me engaging in co-curricular activities in school such as joining clubs and societies or representing the school in sports since she was convinced that it would distract me from academic excellence. However, it is also necessary to note that no matter how hard I tried, it seemed that I was never good enough in my mother’s eyes not only in school but also at home since she never appreciated the effort I put on my grades and neither did she feel that the house was ever clean.
The situation at our house was quite dire, and it rapidly escalated when I was in my second grade. It was at this stage in my life where my mother completely neglected me to a point where my face was gaunt and pale, and my entire body was completely emaciated. It took incessant threats that my mother would be reported to the Child Protective Services by one of my teachers that I started being given regular meals. Ultimately, my mother bowed down to the pressure, but it came at a price since she was annoyed that a third party had intervened. In a bid to punish me, she made me eat at least six full meals a day until I started feeling sick and throwing up. My mother was continuously irked when I threw up, and she would always call me names and force me to eat the food that I had vomited. Progressively, this action made me anorexic, and I had developed a tendency of disliking food since it brought back terrible experiences.
It reached a point where I could hardly stand the cruel and inhumane treatment that I had been subjected to by my mother and this forced me to flee our home. I started living as a homeless person in the streets, and honestly, the experience I had is nothing I would like to remember. Many are times I slept out in the cold and without anything to eat and with no one to hold on to but myself. During my time as a homeless person, I experienced horrible things that I believe no child should have to undergo. With each passing day, I constantly wondered why I had to suffer for my brother's death and started feeling that I might have caused it.
However, later on, I managed to I receive adequate financial, physical and psychological help, I managed to get back to school, found a place where I could call home and started living a normal life. It took me quite some time to understand why my mother suddenly changed after my brother's death but I later concluded that she was blaming herself for the death since she felt that there was more that she could have done to ensure that he was still alive. It was just unfortunate that I had to be the one to face the consequences of her living in her past grief instead of trying to move on.
In conclusion, my brother’s death has been a truly harrowing experience that completely changed my conception of life. I have come to understand very many things ranging from how to handle grief, the consequences of lack of parental care, the challenges of being a homeless person and most of all I have learned to be thankful for what I have in life. Finally, since I managed to overcome my terrible childhood experiences against all the odds, I have developed a sense of resilience and being objective in everything I desire to pursue in life.
