the middle & the end

Continuing with my story
As I grew older I realized that there was no need to be so depressed, I was still unhappy and I never understood why. I hated going to the mosque, I felt like I was choking and all the preaching was lies. I only went to please my mother and be with my cousins. I never once prayed accordingly but instead I prayed to God with all my heart and crying to him. I remember that in 2004 I went to England for my cousin Kavindar's wedding. There I reconnected with my aunt Rehana. I finally found solace as she told me about Imam Ali and how the bohora religion had it wrong. I was so relived to find this out and I told her about my beliefs and hating the religion. There she explained there is no need for such hate as it only leads to bad thoughts but more of to be aware of oneself and pray however one pleases. I went back to Dar and was a little more happier and I started to apply to schools in USA as it would be cheaper than England. I came to U.S and my aunt and I had many great conversations and I was finally free. I found out in June/July of 2005 that my immigrant visa had come through. I thought that I would never get it before I was 21 thus I went to USA as an international student. But in August I went back to Dar and our papers and stuff was finalized. My parents and I came to USA in Jan 2006. There are two other stories connected to this story but I'll leave that for another time. I am just concentrating on my trauma for now. So I have been in the USA for 4 yrs now. In 2007 mom complained of stomach problems (which was cancer but we didn't know) she was misdiagnosed with ulcers. In around June 2008 she got very ill and my dad took her to India where they found abnormal cancerous cells and we didn't tell her then. My family didn't tell anyone which was a mistake. Only my immediate family ie. my parents, my bro, me and my aunts' families knew. The doctors told us she had 3 months but we fought it so hard that she lived till November 2009. We did everything we could. I went twice to Dar es salaam in December 2007 and June 2008? (I am not sure) but more in June she had become more ill than December and I took care of her. I don't know how she made it to America in June 2009 but it was good because she got to see me and my bro and my aunt (Rehana) and uncle (Shamshu). I am glad she came as they got to see her for the last time as well as me. In Early November my brother went to dar (which was the best decision as one, he was closer to her and two, I was still in Uni). My bro was there when mom passed. I had said my goodbye here and astrally(I went to her and my brother in their dreams which I remember as well). I didn't feel guilty for not being there or anything as I did all I could for her. That's my story