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Ellese Nestico
2/19/13
Dr. Stuart
Paper 1 Revision
(Rachael Lee Nestico January 2,1971 - August 20, 2012)
"My Guardian Angel” (1811)
A month ago I received two checks in the mail. Both checks were from Social Security, one
in the amount of $30,000 and one in the amount of $40,000. This is an insane amount of money for
an 18 year old to obtain. Someone was really good to me and did everything in their power to
ensure that I had a way to pave my future. They left me with everything they had left and
everything they ever worked for. This person was my mother, who passed away last August. I
would give every last dime of it up to be able to go back and live just one day over from back when
I was about 10. Instead, I am left with a lot of money that will give me a great future but no one to
cry to, vent to, or ask advice of. I have my dad and his wife, who I wouldn’t trade for the world, but
as for the most influential person in an 18 year olds life, I have a grave site to visit.
Until age fourteen, I lived with my mom. She was a single mother getting over a lot of
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hardships, but working as a nurse, taking care of me, and doing the best she could for us. My days
went anywhere from nonsense weekends rock climbing or watching movies all the way to multiple
concerts and island vacations. We always had something to do and it was always fun. I slept with
my mom the entire time I lived with her, every night. I couldn’t sleep without her because we were
just that close. I can remember telling her she would walk me down the aisle at my wedding. I
could care less if I had the best of the best of everything or what I looked like or what monetary
means I had. To me, I had it all. The best thing any child could ask for is having your parent be
your friend, and I, clearly, had more than that.
Somewhere between the fun and the carelessness I found my mother to be drinking more
and more. We no longer lived alone because little did I know; she was becoming incapable of
taking care of me. We stayed with my nanny and her husband. There were times my mom was told
to leave my nanny's because they didn't want her there when she was drunk. She was no longer
allowed to drive. She was barely ever sober and if she was, I couldn't tell the difference. Her face
was sunken in and bloated all of the time, but she was as thin as a rake. She changed in body, mind,
and soul. She lost her nursing license and was no longer working. There was no more fun and
games. I became the parent and she became the child. I spent hours of my days worrying about my
mom. I started to rather my life when she was not around because it felt normal again.
I never thought of anything other than myself. I would like to blame my age but now I look
back and blame the way I was raised. I never had to have a care in the world, so I never thought of
the consequences of my own actions, let alone hers. I guess in my head, I thought everything
would be fine. I convinced myself that the only way for her to get better was for me to leave, and
go live with my dad. I figured this would break her heart enough to make her change.
Finally the time came, one night she was drunk at my nanny's house and told to leave. I
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begged her to agree to go to rehab. Her reply was “I’ll never go there again. I can’t.” I knew what
I had to do if she didn’t go and sure enough, she ended up leaving and called my dad to go get me
because she didn't want me there with them. This was a wrong move on her part. My dad came and
took me away from it all. My life became normal again, permanently, staying with my dad. I
ignored all of my mom's phone calls. I guess I figured if I kept tuning it out, I could just stay and
she would just give up.
A week later, my mom and her step dad showed up at one of my basketball games to pick
me up. I, literally, kicked and screamed as they drug me out the door and into the car. My
teammates, coach, and the parents around all stared and didn’t know what to do. When he finally
got me out of the parking lot, they started driving home. I wouldn’t stop crying so my mom’s step
dad pulled over at the Sunbury Hospital because he said I was crazy. He parked in the lot and got
out to open my door, I was on the phone with my dad at the time, crying, begging him to save me.
As I was crying to my dad, my mom’s step dad ripped my phone out of my hands and smashed in
on the ground. He then picked it up and threw the pieces at my face. This only made me cry harder,
and my mom just sat there. He turned around and cracked me in the face repetitively to try to shut
me up. My mom just sat there.
By the time we got back to my nanny’s, my dad had the cops waiting. "You can go to your
dad's if your mom gives the OK," the cop told me, “But since she has custody of you, she has to say
it’s OK.” This was right after he told me he could see the hand marks on my face. He couldn’t do
anything and he knew it and he felt horrible about it. That was single handedly the worst night of
my life, but nowhere near the end of the saga.
I stayed at my nanny's and went to school the next day, after having not showered after my
basketball game and having no clothes there from not being there in so long. I called my dad from
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a friend’s phone and he told me just to hold on, he was on his way. During first period, my dad
came for me and took me to the courthouse where we were granted an order of protection from
abuse. This granted my father temporary custody of me. I finally felt relieved.
Standing in the courthouse, having our lawyer tell hers that I chose to stay with my dad, I
was happy. Now, I’m ashamed. I knew I couldn’t look at her face because I would see so much
pain and I would change my mind. I told myself it was for the best. I couldn’t let her life affect
mine. It would have been fair if I still gave her respect and reassured her that I loved her, I never
did.
Fast forward a few years and the unanswered calls from my mom became skipped
weekends at her house, birthdays missed, and a stranger in my life. I thought staying away from
my mom's mess of a life would fix everything. Just give it time. One day, she would eventually be
back in my life and better than ever and this would all just be a hump in the road.
I moved on with my life for the most part, I became accustomed to living with my dad. I
had a new “normal.” But still, every ambulance that was in the vicinity made my heart race. “Was
that going to get my mom? Was she ok?” I didn't know. I would put it out of my head to avoid the
aggravation. By now, I had myself convinced that she was going to die and that I needed to just
face the facts, but in the back of my head, I always felt as if one day, I’d be an adult and she would
be back in my life, sober, and we would mend our broken relationship. I knew what was happening
to my mom, and I sat there and took it. I thought I was doing the right thing. I was doing the right
thing, for myself. Had I been able to fast forward into the future, I think I would have viewed the
situation from a different angle. But I was young and didn’t understand the value of life and death,
so maybe not.
She came to a basketball game of mine, last year to see me play. She always loved to watch
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me succeed. I might as well have completely ignored her because what I did was close enough. I
acted as if she was a stranger, she got a simple “Hi” and the rest of my attention was focused to my
dad. Once again, I broke her heart. She had a disease. Alcoholism is like cancer or any other
sickness. No one chooses to be sick.
About eight months ago my mother passed away. An ambulance picked her up and took
her to the hospital from her alleged boyfriend’s house. From Shamokin Hospital she was taken by
Life Flight to Geisinger in Danville. The only reasoning I got for her death was that she was
unconscious and bleeding out of her mouth and nose. The doctors and nurses couldn’t help her.
Now I look back and realize that her reason of death was brought on by alcoholism, but that
wasn’t all. She knew she was sick. She regularly went to the doctor. She knew it was coming. She
was the type of person to go on about her daily life as if everything was okay, stay away from the
people she loved and let herself die without anyone around her. She would rather hurt then see her
family hurt.
I like to think that she spent her last few weeks remembering the good times she had with
the people she loved. I’m sure she always wished every day that she could change and go back to
the way everything was when I was younger. I bet she had in her head that one day she still would
be the person to walk me down the aisle at my wedding.
There are a lot of things that I wonder and question about what went on with my mom, but
one thing I do know for a fact is that she loved me dearly. She got sick and couldn’t fight her
disease. She lost her battle but prepared me for mine, that being: life without her.
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(My mom and I)
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(Valentine’s Day card from last year)