Spring: The first love

Spring

It was spring, and the gradual rise in temperatures was prompting the blooming of gardens. I woke to the insistent sound of my alarm clock, which had already rung five times that morning; I was, once again, late for university activities. This was the third consecutive day of struggling with my schedule.

At seven in the morning, the morning classes were already underway, starting promptly at six. Although there was still a margin to arrive on time, the activities truly developed between seven and seven-thirty. With little time to spare, I put on the most elegant coat I could find, aware of the need to demonstrate style and preparedness, especially at a fashion-focused institution.

Deprived of time for a shower, I resorted to perfume to at least give a fresh appearance. Without further delay, I grabbed my car keys and headed straight to the university. Upon arriving at seven-fifty, I found the teacher already present in the classroom. I entered the room quietly, vainly hoping to go unnoticed, but I was soon noticed by the instructor, who did not hesitate to highlight my tardiness.

“Is this the time to arrive?” she asked, sternly.

“Sorry, there was a mishap,” I apologized, owning up to my mistake.

“Spare me the excuses and take your seat immediately,” she ordered, indicating the vacant seat.

Seated next to a pleasant-looking young woman, I realized her kindness in addressing the situation with ease.

“She already scolded you, didn’t she?” the young woman asked, in a friendly tone.

“Quite so,” I acknowledged, feeling embarrassed.

“I’m Aurora, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she introduced herself, extending her hand.

“Jessy, likewise,” I responded, shaking her hand.

Throughout the class, I found comfort in Aurora’s company, who kindly shared valuable tips on dealing with the demanding teacher and offered style suggestions for the coming days. Gradually, I realized that being late was only a temporary obstacle in the face of opportunities to make new friends and gain knowledge at the fashion college.

As we exchanged laughter, I admired Aurora’s striking style, with snow-toned pants, a stylish black sweater, and a matching scarf. Even in the spring season, the persistent cold still demanded additional protection.

The bell announcing the end of classes echoed through the university corridor. As usual, I headed toward the exit, remembering the shopping list my mother had tasked me with. Upon reaching the glass door, I was surprised by a collision caused by the person I disliked most: Brayn. Holding a cup of soda, he accidentally spilled the liquid on me. Amid a clumsy apology, he tried in vain to clean the mess with a napkin, only spreading the dark stain further on my coat.

“Sorry, sorry...” his expression was one of genuine embarrassment.

“It’s alright,” I replied, signaling for him to stop his futile attempts at stain removal. Unfortunately, my luck wasn’t on my side; my coat was white, and the mark was there.

After granting me passage, Brayn allowed me to finally leave the university, crossing the glass door. Brayn, the kind of guy who garners the admiration of all women, was the star of the basketball team and its leader. His athletic build and dedication to his girlfriend were undeniable qualities, but his arrogance and constant showboating sparked growing antipathy in me. Although he might be considered the ideal by many, his conceited behavior prevented me from feeling any sympathy for him, unlike the other girls.

Lost in my thoughts, I realized I had finally reached my car. I got into the vehicle and drove towards Asda.

Upon arriving at Asda, I acquired all the items on the list my mother had prepared. I made the payment and headed directly to my car, filled with anticipation to see her again. To cheer her up, I bought ice cream and some additional treats, hoping to bring a smile to her face. Although my mother had provided the money for the purchases, given my working condition, I chose to use my own financial resources. This decision reflects my desire to contribute to the household, aiming to provide her with a comfortable and welcoming environment.

I then headed to my mother’s house, aware that although we live in different cities, our family bond transcends physical distance. Unfortunately, my mother is facing a cancer diagnosis, a reality that imposes additional challenges on our relationship. I am aware of the need to offer her support and comfort in this delicate moment, and I strive to provide her with a dignified and happy life.

The fact that we do not live under the same roof is a temporary circumstance, motivated by my move to an apartment to pursue my studies at Oxford. The achievement of a scholarship to this prestigious institution was the result of effort and dedication and had the full support of my mother. The news of her illness was received with deep sorrow, shaking my expectations and future plans.

However, even in the face of this unexpected setback, I remain determined to provide my mother with a life full of achievements and comfort, honoring the support and dedication she has always shown me. Our love and family bond remain unshaken, transcending any adversity.

I headed to her house; the reason we are not in the same house is temporary; I always wanted to study at Oxford, and I managed it through my mother’s support. But I was deeply disappointed when I found out about her illness.

My mother lives in London. It took me approximately one hour and twelve minutes to get to her house. I was worried about the ice cream; it starts to melt after two minutes, imagine after an hour.

I rang the doorbell, anxious to see her and to tell her the news that I would be moving back in with her. She probably won’t be too happy; her thinking is that I should live my life without worries. According to her, I should enjoy my youth, which I consider unfair because I have a mother who deserves my love and care. My goal is to provide her with a better life.

I have no boyfriend and almost no friends. I don’t want anything to distract me from my focus. And I won’t allow anything to shake me.

My mother opened the door with a smile on her face. My heart raced with a mix of sadness and happiness. I was happy to see her, but at the same time, seeing her condition, without her beautiful hair and needing support from machines, deeply shook me. Unintentionally, a tear rolled down my cheek. I had been absent for a year and three days. I finished high school and started university. I spent a year without seeing my mother.

Seeing her current state left me profoundly sad. I had been away for so long and only learned about her illness a week ago. Today is Friday, and I needed to see her.

I shouldn’t have left here, after all. My father passed away recently, approximately two and a half years ago, my brother disappeared after receiving the news of our father’s death. I should have stayed with my mother. I was very unfair. My pain from losing my father and brother was great, but hers, certainly, was even deeper, and yet, I didn’t fully consider it.

“Daughter, finally.” She hugs me with difficulty, hindered by the machine. I hug her tightly, but at the same time, carefully.

“Sorry, mom.” She interrupts the warm moment and looks at me.

“Sorry for what, my daughter?” she asks, with concern in her eyes.

“For leaving you in this condition.” I can’t hold back the tears, which roll down my face. I feel incapable of protecting her, of helping her...

“My daughter, I supported you. That’s why I didn’t want them to inform you about the illness,” she said, lowering her head.

“I know, mom, but I wanted so much to be able to help you... We’ll get through this together!” I said with a tone of determination.

“I know, my daughter. What is this on your white coat?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as if she already knew it was provoked by a boy.

“Just a snobby guy from the university who bumped into me,” I replied, anger in my voice.

Our gazes met, and suddenly, we started laughing.

We sat and watched a funny movie. We ate ice cream and, as expected, my mother smiled at the treats. I was so happy to see her happy; it had been so long since I’d seen that beautiful smile...

These moments brought back memories of my father. When he was with us, we watched funny and horror movies together. My brother didn’t like horror movies much; he wasn’t a fan of blood. I miss hugging both of them so much now, seeing my mother in this state, I feel like I’m losing her little by little. I’m so afraid of being without the love of all three...

“Daughter, I’m going to sleep,” she said, kissing my forehead before going to her room.

She seemed so tired that she forgot to tell me where I would sleep. I grabbed a blanket, lay down on the couch, put on my headphones, and connected them to my phone. I started listening to music. I was transported by the melody, feeling a nearly spatial lightness, a profound calm. My thoughts began to wander as if I were in a dreamlike state.

And so, I fell asleep wrapped in my memories and worries.

I woke up earlier than expected, stirred by my own sleep. The sun was already rising, and I noticed that my mother was still asleep. I decided then to prepare breakfast: scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausages, accompanied by orange juice, a typical British combination.

I went to my mother’s room and gently woke her up with a loving hug and a kiss on the cheek. I placed the breakfast tray on the bed.

She seemed happy with my presence, and I struggled not to break down in front of her, to show that everything was fine, that I was fine. However, this task was extremely difficult for me, as I was deeply shaken.

My mother, sensing my emotions, held my hand and gave me a reassuring smile. "Thank you, dear. It’s lovely to have you here. How about we sit and talk while we have breakfast?"

We sat together, and she started eating the breakfast I had prepared. I watched her, trying to capture every moment, every smile, every little gesture. The conversation flowed naturally as we talked about my studies, her treatment, and memories of happier times.

After breakfast, I helped her get ready for the day. She had a doctor's appointment in the afternoon, and I decided to accompany her. We spent the morning chatting, reminiscing about the past, and planning for the future. I wanted to be there for her as much as possible, to support her through this difficult time.

When it was time to go to the doctor, I drove her to the hospital. The ride was filled with a comfortable silence, occasionally broken by light-hearted remarks. At the hospital, we waited for her turn, surrounded by the sterile smell and the hushed murmurs of the staff and other patients.

The doctor’s visit was thorough. He explained the latest developments in her treatment, the progress she was making, and the next steps. I listened intently, taking mental notes, and asking questions whenever something wasn’t clear. My mother held my hand tightly, a silent exchange of strength and reassurance between us.

After the appointment, we returned home. She was exhausted, so I helped her to her room and made sure she was comfortable. As she rested, I took the opportunity to tidy up the house and prepare a light meal for us.

In the evening, I sat by her bed, holding her hand. "Mom, I’ve decided to move back in with you. I want to take care of you and be here for you."

She looked at me with a mix of pride and concern. "Jessy, I appreciate your willingness to help, but I want you to live your life, to chase your dreams."

"My dream is to see you happy and healthy, Mom. Everything else can wait. We’re going to get through this together," I replied with determination.

She smiled, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I’m so proud of you, Jessy. I love you so much."

"I love you too, Mom," I whispered, hugging her gently.

That night, as I lay on the couch again, I felt a sense of peace. Despite the challenges ahead, I knew I was exactly where I needed to be. My mother needed me, and I was ready to face anything for her.

The days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months. I balanced my studies and taking care of my mother, with Aurora’s friendship becoming a valuable source of support. Brayn remained a constant irritant at university, but his antics paled in comparison to the importance of my family and my goals.

Every day, I saw small improvements in my mother’s condition, and I clung to those moments of progress. Our bond grew even stronger as we navigated through this journey together. Her resilience and positivity inspired me, and I found strength in her unwavering spirit.

As time went on, I also discovered a passion for fashion design that went beyond mere academic interest. It became a creative outlet for my emotions, a way to channel my love and dedication into something beautiful. My mother’s encouragement and Aurora’s support fueled my determination to excel.

One sunny afternoon, as we sat in the garden, my mother turned to me with a smile. "Jessy, you’ve grown into such a remarkable young woman. I’m so proud of you."

"Thank you, Mom. I wouldn’t be who I am without you," I replied, feeling a surge of gratitude and love.

She took my hand and squeezed it gently. "No matter what happens, always remember that you are capable of achieving great things. Your father and I are both watching over you, and we believe in you."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I hugged her. "I promise, Mom. I’ll make you proud."

As the days passed, I continued to juggle my responsibilities, finding a delicate balance between caring for my mother and pursuing my dreams. Each day was a testament to the power of love and resilience, and I knew that no matter what the future held, I would face it with courage and determination.