Rubber Band

“We are all like rubber bands; Everyone is flexible, but there comes a point where we can no longer snap back into place, and we break.” That’s exactly what happened. I stretched myself too far and couldn’t recover. I no longer had the flexibility, the elasticity of a rubber band. I was no longer myself. I was no longer anyone. I simply did not exist anymore. I had snapped. **Don't even think about taking my story** H.S

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1. Prologue

My dad died five years ago from testicular cancer, I was 12. Lovely am I right? In most cases when someone close to you dies from cancer, those loved ones are able to, in some way, come to terms with the impending death. This was not our case. The doctors said he was better, and frankly after five years of appointments and surgeries, we really thought he was right. However, a microscopic sliver of cancer was over looked by many, and it ultimately ended my father’s life on July 23, 2009.

This shocked not just me and my family, but the town as a whole. My father was a good man, a man that had a lot of friends, and a lot of good things in his life. He sold insurance to most in our town and in my eyes, saved a lot of lives. Not only was he a great business man, he was a great coach. He taught all my brothers not only how to play baseball, but how to love it. To me he wasn’t just a father; he was friend, my best friend in fact.

Before he died, my mother and he were having some issues. I was convinced that the stress of his cancer, many medical problems, and having to raise six kids would have made them crack earlier than they had. I was proven wrong, and thankfully they never got a divorce. When I later asked my mother what happened, she said that she simply didn’t love him anymore, but decided to stay together as a family. Then, two years after my father’s death, my mother killed herself. It was November 24, 2011; otherwise known as my 15th birthday. A lot of whispers went around at this point, saying that my mother was weak and a coward; Rumors saying that she couldn’t handle five kids. They were just that however, rumors. My mother was strong; she just didn’t always make the best decisions. Do I blame her for leaving us? Yes and no. I miss her more than anything, but even the strongest of us have a breaking point. “We are all like rubber bands” is what my dad used to say. “Everyone is flexible, but there comes a point where we can no longer snap back into place, and we break.” That’s exactly what happened to my mom. She stretched herself too far and couldn’t recover. She no longer had the flexibility, the elasticity of a rubber band.
 

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