Personal Narrative: Fatigue

1333 Words6 Pages
Fatigue has manifested in both my mother and I, you can tell by just looking at us. I saw it in her eyes as she looked at me—but it was not really when she looked at me; rather, it was when she looked away. Her physical being was with me, but throughout the interview I wondered if her mind was elsewhere. The likelihood of her mind being elsewhere was rather high, given that we were discussing her lifelong battle with diabetes. Although my mother was diagnosed with diabetes during her pregnancy with me, according to her doctor, her body was extensively damaged from the years the diabetes went undetected.
My mother described her disease as a “silent killer”, something that was extremely difficult for a daughter to hear. I asked her about her
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I did not say that she has not voiced her feelings to me prior to this assignment, but I do think that the interview made me listen closer. I heard what she said, but I also heard what she did not say and I may have paid closer attention to the crack in her voice than I would have in another instance. Not that I did not care before, but I am now more aware of the little details when I listen to someone. It is not simply about spoken language, it is about any form of communication whether it be verbal expression or through body…show more content…
I was astonished at the woman before me who was able to recount terrible experiences and still remain strong. It was not until I began to cry that I saw any emotional strain in my mother, it was a true testament to her strength. I asked her what her response would be if someone, after hearing her experience, said that it could always be worse. Her exact response was, “You’re right, it can.” At that moment, I felt immense admiration for my mother. Despite what my mom has been through, she acknowledges that things can be worse and even though it may be very difficult for her to get through the day at times, she still finds the strength to do so.
This interview was just as much for her as it was for me. One role was not more significant than the other; we both played key parts in this experience. This interview was about listening and more importantly, understanding. To find myself in someone else’s story is a beautiful thing and I am appreciative of this experience for allowing that to happen. I understood my mother’s story in a way I had not before and I understood myself in a way I had not before during my experience as the interviewer as well as telling the story of the
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