"Mami"

I looked into his tiny brown eyes and prayed that he wouldn’t remember that moment.

I was 14 when it happened. 14 when my life was turned upside down. I sat in my mother’s house in the living room panicked as I held him, my brother, in my arms and rushed to answer the phone. My mother called. She spoke quickly and then hung up. Her words like sharp stabbings to my heart. “I can’t do this, I can’t continue. I give up; I don’t want to live any longer.”  The dial tone pierced through my ear and snapped my mind from the sudden state of shock.

I phoned my sister and expressed the urgency of the situation. Throughout this my mind was a blur. Next thing I knew, I was speaking to a police officer at the front door, who was asking several questions about my mother’s whereabouts. I tried to answer as best as I could, with my brother crying in my arms and the sound of the phone ringing repetitively in the background. As I stood there barefoot speaking to him, I saw her.

I couldn’t find the words to express her location as I stood paralyzed staring at her, so I pointed towards her. As I saw her get out of the cab, I noticed her disheveled hair, her face flushed and mascara running down her face. She looked awful. I had never seen her like this. A one too many thoughts were running through my mind, as I tried to remain as calm as possible for my brother. I looked at him and said, “Things will be okay”.

She was taken to the hospital, as I waited for a relative to pick my brother and myself from the police station. The police officer smiled at me and offered to assist me with my brother, but I refused. I was scared and upset. My mother was suffering from something that I did not understand, but I knew that now I would have to protect him.

Luckily, my aunt was able to pick us up although she lived several hours away. As we drove to her home, my brother refused to be held by anyone but myself. As I held him I heard him say, “Mami”. The word terrified me as I quickly corrected him, “No, Jessy….Jessy” I repeated it several times but as I did, he continued saying “Mami”. I knew what he meant, but at that moment the word expressed a whole another type of meaning for me. I was young and naïve, but the word described a strong, courageous being that would forever protect him and I knew then that I, in those couple hours had just become that; that my role would forever be more than a sister.

I continued correcting him until he closed his eyes and feel asleep.