My Nickname Was Grace, Because I Broke Everthying I Touched, But Maybe That's Not A Bad Thing

If the woman I now am, could keep the knowledge I now have on the outcome of you, and how one day you would heal from your own childhood trauma and be the mother I always needed, I would've loved you while you were thumping around on me. I would've went to school with a clearer mind, knowing there's hope in this life to be had one day. I would've applied myself to studying. I could've made good grades, I just didn't see the point of it all, as a child life is defined by current moments, and the future was happening live time, so I had no hope for mine, because if your own mother hated you, how could  a world ever like you anyways?  
I was consumed in my mind with not being here, to survive the day after I got back home from school was enough. I remember sitting in class, observing the other students, the ones who had it all together, their new Nike shoes, their Jansport bookbags, eager pencils and calculators ready to go, their clear minds with no worries, ready to learn and apply. The one thing I was mostly envious of though? I was envious of the thought of the loving family these people went home to.  
Meanwhile my mind scrambling to figure out what I'd cook for my two brothers when I got home.    
Or what clothes I would borrow from them so I could survive tomorrow at school, ya know  to "fit in." Mom would always buy the boys name brand clothes at the start of every year, I would get hand me downs, never anything name brand either. I remember one day, after being made fun of at school, I returned home that evening determined to fix the problem, so I took a pair of my brothers Levi's, cut the red tag off of them and glued them on my old sassoon jeans lol. I rode the bus to school the next morning beaming! Making sure my hind end was sporting that very well known logo and that it was visible at all times, that is until my "friend" examined my news digs a little too closely and ratted me out to everyone. A short lived victory, it seemed to always be that way. Lol  
Anyways, back on the subject...  
If that little girl in me had known my own mother's pain, and the things she had to endure as a child as well, I would've held more empathy and compassion for her, I would've kept perspective of my own life, I would've tried to live my life knowing things change and there is a kind hearted mother waiting on me in my future, the one I needed all along. I wouldn't have spent every second searching for death and ways to obtain it. I wouldve handled everything differently.  
I love my mother with all my heart, if i could take her cancer I would.    
Last night, as I was handing her a salad, she looked at me with such a childlike sadness in her eyes and softly asked, what did I do?  
Stunned by her question, I said mom, what do you mean? She said was I bad? Why did this happen to me, was I a bad person?  
To say my heart in this moment dropped and ached would be understating my emotions and hurt for her in that moment. I said no mom, scripture says it rains on the just and the unjust, these things can just happen and do happen to anyone.  
My mom wasn't always a believer, It seems her life was a war to take her hardened heart away, and this feels as if it's the aftermath of that battle.  
God's timing is not our own, it's taken years for her to change, but I'd also be a liar if I denied that in that split second after she asked that, my own prayers didn't ring out in my head as a child....  
Why God is this happening to me? Am I a bad child? To which I quickly rebuked in my spirit, for forgiveness over the trials of life allows grace to be applied, allowing love to cover anger from both parties. Besides, we all pay for the wrong doings we do in this life, but we are not to glory in the consequences of such things on each other. matter of fact, we are to hold empathy and compassion for one another, we are all just human. And I forgive her, I love her, I need her. Watching her frail body, her skinny boney legs and arms trying to find comfort from the pain by balling up in bed, hearing her say I love you sis, I would endure it all again, knowing now how much she has given her heart to God, hearing her pray before she musters up the energy to stand upon her tiny legs just to go to the bathroom..."I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me"  
My emotions are on overload, I find myself like a child again, remembering at a very young age my mom would send me to Tennessee to stay with my dad for several weeks at a time, the shear terror of leaving her, screaming as my dad pulled me out the front door, crying to the point of vomiting. Now all the sudden I'm that little girl again, wanting to stay with my mom, wanting her to just take me with her, don't leave me here without you!    
I know though, I have my own family that needs me as well, but there is that piece of my heart that is screaming and crying for her to just stay with me. I've prayed for God to just give her cancer to me, if it's his will for someone to have it, let her go be free, let the woman she now is have the experience that life could've given her. Let her see others with her new heart, enjoying being free from trauma of her own childhood, and loving now with everything she has acquired that's not materialistic. Let her make her music, sing her songs. I know everything happens for a reason, but why does it always seem like when we finally get to where there's clarity in life, life says...ok....time to go!  
My grandpa worked all his life as a steel worker, had enough money saved to last him two lifetimes, only to die of cancer a year after retirement.  
My sweet, sweet grandmother, survived a loveless abusive marriage, did her job as a wife and mother, lost 5 of her 6 kids, then when my grandpa passed away, she eventually moved on. After meeting a man who read the Bible to her every morning over coffee, taught her, loved her, danced with her, I swear I never seen someone smile so much! Then two years later they married, only for him to discover prostate cancer a year after that, then pass away within the following year. She finally felt love and happiness, only for it to be taken away shortly after.    
I know God's ways are not our own, but why is happiness in this life always so fleeting?  
Maybe it's a good thing life always feels broken to me, maybe I should always keep it that way so it's never taken away by the simple act of smiling.    
Of course I don't truly believe that, but it does more times than none seem this way.  
Regardless, I'm thankful for all that God has allowed to be mended, not only between my mother and I, but also between her and her own mother. My mom's sickness has surprisingly heavily affected my grandmother ( my mom's mom) who was no better mom to my mom, than what my mother was to me. Yet now, I catch them saying I love you to one another every day, my grandmother has been there every day since my mom got out of the hospital with her Hospice diagnosis. Which speaks volumes, because before that she would only see her once every few months.    
Anyway, just needed to get all this off my chest, and I know perseverance to create change and break cycles is a necessity in this life, but the timing of it all is not up to us, and that's one of the hardest parts.  
People can change, and anger can be replaced with empathetic love, my life is a testimony to that.    
Thank you Lord for everything,    
Love Anna ❤️