My Mom Pressured Me To Take A Leave From Harvard Because My Sister Struggled To Finish School. I Refused — So They Told Me To Move Out. Years Later, When My Mom Faced A Serious Health Diagnosis, She Asked Me For Help With Treatment. I Only Said:

I thought it was just another game.

She’d shove the screen in my face at the kitchen table.

Look, she’d say, grinning. I just won 50 bucks while you were doing calculus.

There were bright animations, confetti, fake coins raining down.

What she didn’t show me were the losses in between.

I only started to realize how serious it was when little things in the house changed.

The rainy day jar my mom kept on top of the fridge was suddenly empty.

The power bill sat unopened on the counter longer than usual.

I caught Brooke snapping at my mom when she asked about gas money.

This sharp, desperate tone I hadn’t heard from her before.

My mom worked as a manager at a mid-range clothing store in a strip mall off the freeway.

It was the kind of job that required her to smile more than she wanted to, stand longer than her feet could handle and come home with just enough energy to eat, watch half an episode of something, and fall asleep in front of the TV.

She talked about money in the way people talk about the weather constantly, but like it was something happening to her, not something she had any say in.

I’m just trying to keep us afloat, she’d say, stirring a pot of pasta. Once Brooks on her feet, once you graduate, things will get easier.

There was a college fund once, not a huge one, just a chunk of savings my mom had started when I was a kid.

Continue reading…