Breaking Night by Liz Murray

This is my first article that I have ever written. Please forgive the errors.

Here’s a book that touched my soul. It’s hard for me to know how far I can write details as I don’t want it to be a spoiler for those who would like to read it.

It’s about the author , and her life being raised by drug addict parents. Or was she taking care (raising) her parents.

I shall touch upon those areas that resonated deeply with me.

There’s so much love between the family members, mother, father, the author (Liz) and her elder sister. But there’s drugs happening all the time and there’s poverty. And Liz, keeps waiting for her mother to come out of high so she can get hugs, converse and connect. She’s missing school as she keeps waiting for her parents to return from nightly outing of drugs.

There’s a scene where her mother trades her sister jacket and the drug peddler refuses to give the drug.

But, one fine day her mom tells Liz she has AIDS, one thing leads to another the family breaks apart.

Liz, who cared for her mom now takes to street, making friends, surviving, trying to forget she is losing her dear mother to AIDS. She doesn’t visit her. Her sister feels betrayed that the dying mother is left to be cared by just her. All Liz says it’s hard for me to see her like this.

I did that, went through it. After all the physical abuse that I saw my mom go through in hands of my dad , and when she was diagnosed with blood cancer, I went numb. I was 21 years old, I refused to go to hospital to care for her. I felt good for her, no more torture. My mom was cared by her loving brothers. But I kept attending my college as though nothing happened.

Liz the author,loses her mom eventually, goes on to attend Harvard university after being chosen as one of the recipient of The Newyork times scholarship, before which she was still figuring out how to manage food, how to manage stay , being homeless etc.

Then the healing happens. Her story of struggles gets published in The Newyork times, and she gets flooded with messages, with donations, with love.

The regret ritual scratched the surface, and opened the flood gates.

But mistake got repeated 2 years back. My best friend who was pregnant almost died, had stroke and delivered in emergency. I just didn’t feel the empathy. I am missing from the scene. When asked I expected more out of you as a friend. I was like “am sorry, never realised”. When another friend fell sick, I was there for her, but it was more of this is right thing to do than from heart.

This lack of ability to feel the need of loved ones got healed. May be still healing. It was not just contamination, but corruption of consciousness. I needed to be healed of childhood experiences. Of past life’s choices.

And regret funeral , though the paper burnt to ashes, volcano erupted two days later and I cried for first time in 18 years, missing my dear mom, feeling sad that she had such tough life, seeking forgiveness for this and all life times when I didn’t do what I was meant to.

I hope you will read the book and enjoy how one can be in such situation and can still come up in life, make happy memories and love and feel loved.

Love you momma.