Me and my mother. My mother, nicknamed “MaeMae” was one of the biggest influences in my life. My mother, also known as my grandmother took me in whenever nobody else would. My mother (biological mother) was a struggling addict who went to prison just as she became pregnant with me, her third child who had been lost to addiction. As we skip down the line, I learned what self harm was. It’s a nasty addiction nobody should have. Mae-Mae noticed, and cradled me in her arms, telling me everything would be alright. I have a feeling she knew she would die soon, and would tell me, “If I ever die, hija, just look up at the sky, and say goodbye.” As I told her not to say such foolish things! Around the age of eleven, she decided to head off to Arkansas. Telling us she would make better money there, but the real reasons was for the hospitals. She would tell us she was doing great, that she didn’t need help. But.. she just really didn’t want us to worry about her. Then, the day came. She passed out, not breathing at a run down motel, where dirt galores. It was the only thing she could afford at the time. Eventually, being rushed to the hospital. She spent days.. gosh, maybe weeks in that hospital. We never knew she would end up passing away so quickly. Just a few days before she passed away, she was up, getting her hair braided by the nurses! But.. all things have to come to an end. And she passed away, November 19, 2020. Just as covid spiked. I feel into a deep depression, wanting to go with her if you get what I’m trying to infer. I wanted to see her just one more time, and not tell her my last goodbyes over a shitty phone call with bad wifi. But, things happen, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it. I have been healing, as I’ve been trying to get out of the self harm habit. She was a beautiful person. Dark brown, milky skin. With the smoothest black hair you have ever seen. As her freckles stuck out to everyone. She had such nerdy glasses, and just.. such a memorable laugh. I am still experiencing hard grief, but I’m sure she’d be proud of me now. I can play two instruments, and I’m a struggling artist. I have great grades, and I know how to cook exactly as she did. I hope people can see her story, and remember the loving mother of eight, Vivian Tellez Hasson.


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