Tears racing down my cardinal cheeks, I laid hopelessly in my bed. Why did this have to happen? Why did my mother have to die? Was it my fault? The burden of last night’s fight lay heavily on my shoulders, haunting my every thought. I kept replaying every dreadful moment in my head. It was a cloudy, dull day in San Diego, California. I could hear the news reports of my mother’s car accident streaming throughout the lifeless house. “Someone turn that off!”, I screamed. But I was alone. How could someone be so stupid to text and drive? They killed my mother! I knew I wasn’t to blame, but I couldn’t help thinking that if we hadn’t gotten in a fight the night before then things would be different.
I impatiently waited my father’s arrival from the hospital. He told me I wasn’t allowed to go because “I’m not old enough” and he didn’t want me to see her dead body. Each minute felt like an hour. I wanted to see him. I wanted to know more than what a CNN news report could tell me.
School was hard the next few weeks. I sat emotionless in my desk, never saying a word. My friends tried comforting me, but I never found the courage to open up to them. That’s just how I am. I tend to keep all my problems and struggles in a box, which remains locked up until something better rolls around and I can forget about them. I am not your typical girl who pours their emotions out like a glass of milk. That night at dinner, a new encouraging thought suddenly popped into my head for the first time since before the fight. I would start a “Texting Awareness” organization at my school, specifically about the dangers of texting while driving. I knew I couldn’t bring my mother back, but maybe by sharing my story I could save some other classmate’s loved ones.
So there I was, speaking in front of my entire school of 1,700 people, just three weeks after my mother passed. Palms sweaty, knees weak, and voice shaking, I shared my story. When finished, the loud sound combination of hollers and claps consumed my ears. Surprisingly my story spoke to many of my fellow classmates. They supported me. For the first time in weeks, I felt an overwhelming sense of happiness that I hoped would stick with me.
The old saying, “You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone”, is extremely true. I loved my mom dearly through the ups and the downs. We had our share of fights, but then again, what mother-daughter duo doesn’t? I regret ever arguing with her and taking her for granted, but I now realize that I cannot dwell on her death forever. She wouldn’t want me to feel pain the rest of my life. At my school, I am now the president of the “Texting Awareness” organization and am being followed by 700 of my other classmates. We have now expanded the organization to other schools in the district, and someday I hope to make it worldwide. I know my mother is smiling down on me from heaven and I know she is very proud of me. I know I will see her beautiful face again in the future, but until then it is my mission to put an end to texting while driving. I am just a motivated 17 year old girl with big dreams, hoping to save lives.
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