Love is the answer
I am a french young woman of 27 years old. My mother died when I was 20 of a cancer, which she had during 9 months. The particularity of my mother is that she was diagnosed as schizophrenic. It's just a word because each schizophrenic is different. The reality is that she was in great suffering. Since I was 8 years old, I knew my mother as someone who, sometimes, often, wanted to kill herself, as someone rejected, as someone who had hallucinations, as someone for whom I was unable to do anything, as someone I can't understand or even reach. My parents got separated when I was 7 years old. I grew up with my father. In the common language, it's my father who grew me up, who gave me education and limits. The most difficult with my mother was the fact that she suffered and the fact that I was alone with her and that nobody around me wanted to listen to me because my mother was a kind of family taboo. Despite her illness, she really love me as no one else would do. She told me that she loved me each time I visited her. Despite her illness, or due to that, she was very kind with others and considered anyone as equal, whatever they were black, yellow or white, poor or rich, disabled, homosexual. My mother grew me up with her love and taught me this. When I was a child I wanted my mother to be a normal mother. However I loved her and due to our shared love, her illness was less a problem when I was 19. When she got cancer, she was too weak to have treatments, so they thought she would live like 2 or 3 months. However, she miraculously got better and could go out the hospital for a few months. I guess it was her gift to me to enjoy each other when our relationship was good. I am proud of my mother for her strength and her kindness. I am grateful that I had this mother.