Holding On, Letting Go, Moving Forward

It was on January 28th 2009 that my mother was diagnosed with cancer. My dad called for a family meeting, and as usual, I thought nothing of it. I was expecting it to be about some new rules around the house since I had just finished with midterms week. My brother, who was only eight years old at the time, had no idea what was going on. So he and I both willingly sat down at the kitchen table, not knowing that what was about to take place would change our lives forever. Then he said it. Those three words that did the trick. Casted the spell. Altered my reality. "Mom has cancer." I didn't know what to do. Or say. Or think. My eyes just started overflowing with silent tears. I just sat there and stared out into space. My mind was blank. My brother had no idea what was going on still, but when he saw me and my mom crying he started to cry too. So I let my parents finish talking and telling my brother and I what was going to happen. What I am going to tell you next, is something I have never told anyone else before. The next three months of my life were some of the hardest three months I've ever had to go through. And it is very, very difficult for me to talk about. So, I ran in my room, closed and locked my door and dug out my iPod. Music. Artists. 30 Seconds To Mars. A Beautiful Lie. From Yesterday. From Yesterday was the first Mars song I had ever heard, and in the end, the song that ultimately changed my life. For the next 43 minutes and 57 seconds, and many months after that, ABL was all I listened to. On repeat, just that album (welll with a bit of their first album thrown in there as well). I really do believe that listening to 30 Seconds to Mars was what kept me sane; kept me grounded. They kept me from losing my mind. They helped me hold on, not only to myself, but to my family. My brother, my dad and most of all...my mom. There was a time though, in early February, (the time of my mothers surgery) where I almost lost myself completely. I was beginning to think that everything was my fault. That my mom had cancer because of me. I honestly have absolutely no idea what made me think this, but I did. Part of me was saying that I needed to stop being so ridiculous and that its not even humanly possible for it to be my fault that she has cancer. But the other half, the other half of me was saying that it was all my fault. This went on for days. Until one night. I woke up one night, at around three o'clock in the morning to my music still playing. I forgot to turn it off before i fell asleep. I had been listening to ABL on shuffle, and I awoke to the very beginning of The Kill, about thirty seconds in. And I just laid there, listening to the words. And not just listen like I would any other time, I mean, I really listened. I focused on Jared’s voice; I listened to each individual note he sung, every individual word that came out of his mouth. And it was over. Just like that. The song had ended and I was just laying there, in bed collecting my thoughts, just as From Yesterday started. I went back to the very first time I ever heard that song. Back to the very first time I ever heard 30 Seconds to Mars. I went back to standing in the center of a department store staring at the wall, watching the video for From Yesterday. And now I was lying in my bed, in my house, listening to that exact same song. “…on his face is a map of the world…”. Two minutes and forty one seconds. Two minutes and forty two seconds. I had to let go. Two minutes and forty three seconds. My blood ran cold. Two minutes and forty four seconds. Time stopped. Two minutes and forty five seconds. Life moved on. And so did I. Everything was okay. It was all okay. Maybe not right then, but eventually, I knew it would all be okay. And now here I am, just over a year later, and everything is okay. I can finally move forward.
Jackie
Commerce, Michigan