“It was difficult, as a daughter, to watch a parent go through intense physical distress and the deep pain of a broken marriage — all at the same time.”
Charissa Pereira, Upper East Side
After years of taking care of a sick parent, Charissa Pereira finds hope amidst hardship in her family.
“It was lonely growing up as the child of a parent with a debilitating disease. I remember looking at all my friends with healthy parents and feeling like I got the worst stroke of luck. I had to grow up and mature faster than everyone else because my mother needed me. All I wanted was to have no responsibilities, but there my mother was, asking me to accompany her to get another MRI. It felt like I was facing a constant Boogeyman.
My mother has trigeminal neuralgia, which means the main nerve in her face malfunctions. Something as small as a soft breeze can trigger it and send blazing, fire-like pain down her face. It’s nicknamed the “suicide disease” because so many people reached the point of being unable to bear the pain before procedures were discovered.
Around the time COVID-19 hit, my mother’s pain re-emerged with a vengeance after the effects of her last treatment wore off. On top of that, my father was pretty absent. They were in the process of getting a divorce after my father said he was leaving. This was the second time in the span of a few years that he had threatened to desert her. It was difficult, as a daughter, to watch a parent go through intense physical distress and the deep pain of a broken marriage — all at the same time. My mother started worrying about how she was going to provide for herself. I felt the weight of knowing I might have to start thinking about how to take care of her as she got older, living alone. It was scary, having to think about all of that at such a young age.
There have definitely been moments where I’ve harbored resentment toward people who have never had to go through these struggles. Even though my other family members have tried to be there for her as best as they could, I’ve always been the one who goes to all her doctor’s appointments, gets on conference calls with surgeons, talks with anesthesiologists, and all these things that have made me ask, Why me?
Despite everything, my mother has always lived completely out of faith. For her to laugh so vibrantly and experience the joy she does is a testament to a living God and a tangible Holy Spirit. She could talk your ear off for hours about Jesus. She walks into Starbucks and exclaims, “God is good!” to the baristas. No normal person could do that out of their own strength, especially not someone with as many adversities as my mother. I inherited her resilience and somehow have never been angry at God for the situation she’s in.
I was recently preparing to go with my mother to yet another procedure and was getting myself mentally ready for another session of mildly panic-inducing waiting room sitting. All of a sudden, I felt like God was speaking. He showed me a vision of my mother, and how He saw her. How she is one of His five-star, high-ranking generals. And then He said to me, Charissa, I trust you with this. I trust you with my five-star general when she needs protection and comfort. I have given you everything you could possibly need to take care of your mother. I started to cry softly at the realization that my mother is this powerful general in God’s army, a total fighter that I had the privilege of protecting. I love adventure stories of battle, glory, and honor, so this felt like God was speaking directly into my wild imagination, just like He always does. I no longer feel as sorry for myself having to go to all of Mom’s surgeries and appointments. I now see it as an honor.
A few other restorative things have happened in this pandemic season that took me by surprise. First, my sister moved back to New York City after graduating from grad school and lived with me for three months. Then, she miraculously found a job in the city in the midst of the pandemic. It was such a gift to have another person beside me so I didn’t have to take care of Mom alone anymore. And more than that, we experienced deep sibling restoration after being apart for a decade. Then, after months of us praying for my dad’s heart to soften in hopes that their quarantine cohabitation would become more peaceful, he told my mom that he no longer wanted a divorce. He got his money back from his lawyer and everything.
I know that no matter what this world throws at me, there’s something bigger and greater, and there’s life beyond this life. I always go back to the fact that God has never failed me when I’ve cried out to Him, to the peace I feel after weeping or lying prostrate in prayer or crying out and lamenting. I’ve always felt like there’s someone so strong at the other end of the line — right there, closer than anyone else and ready to move on my behalf, like He always said He would. Even in the trenches of taking care of my mom, I know that I am being taken care of, too.”
