West sprinter Angelia Murray lifted by support of mother, grandmother

The butterfly is always there. Sometimes it flutters by shortly before a race. Other times it flits across the infield while West High senior sprinter Angelia Murray warms up with her teammates.

She doesn’t have to search for it. She doesn’t even think about it.

She has gazed at butterflies in wonderment ever since June 2007, when her grandmother and mother explained that every time she sees a butterfly, it’s a reminder that her grandfather, John Morabito, is with her.

When her grandfather, her primary father figure, died eight years ago, Murray’s life was tossed upside down. Less than a year later, her mother, Jodi Morabito, suffered her second of five strokes.

The combination of loss and the deterioration of her mother’s health could have sent Murray on a dangerous path. Instead, over the past seven years, she has planned her future: She will run track at Friends University, study to be an accountant, and succeed.

She has maintained a gentle spirit that is backed by fierceness.

“I love my mom and want to be there when she needs me to be,” Murray said. “This is my life. I can’t go out and choose to be someone else today. I just go with it.”

Out of control

While many aspects of Murray’s life have been out of her control, she has never faced the chaos alone.

Her father has been in prison most of her life, she said, so her mom’s dad filled that gaping hole. While he was a strict father, Jodi Morabito said, he doted on his granddaughter, whose first name is pronounced An-JELL-ya.

“She’s not had the easiest life,” said Beverly Morabito, Murray’s grandmother. “But my late husband and I have always been there for her.”

Jodi Morabito and her four children lived with her parents off and on. If they were living elsewhere, she would drop her daughter off at her parents’ house before school on her way to work. And each time, after Murray climbed into bed to sleep some more, John brought his tired princess breakfast in bed.

“My dad wasn’t around, but I didn’t notice,” said Murray, who is often called Angel. “I had my grandpa. I didn’t lack for a dad. He did everything for me. You know at birthday parties at school when parents bring food? He’d save the day and bring pizza.”

Her brothers — Jerome, James and Jarel, who are 6 to 13 years older — try to be a father figure now. But as Murray said, “It’s hard to take parental guidance from your brothers.”

Murray, 18, and her mother, who is 50, don’t have much money. Murray was 3 when her mother suffered her first stroke. She’s on disability and receives Social Security. But track shoes are expensive. Prom is expensive.

And that’s where her grandmother steps in.

“I spent almost $300 on that girl with the dress, the shoes, her hair, makeup, pedicure, the whole nine yards. Because I know if my husband was here, that’s exactly what he’d be saying would need to be done,” Beverly Morabito said.

“He thought she was special, his little girl. To this day she’ll cry, just thinking about it. It just tears me up.”

Both Murray and her mother appreciate Beverly Morabito’s help.

“She’s there for me mentally and emotionally,” Jodi Morabito said of her mom. “I always say she’s my best friend. She’s always there for me and my kids.”

Search for structure

Everything Murray does with her right hand must be done with her left. The number on the TV volume must be on an even number. She counts steps as she runs. She battles anxiety.

While she hasn’t been diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder, this is her way of finding control in what has been a chaotic life.

“I like things to be structured, I like rules,” said Murray, who is in National Honor Society. “I like things to be the same. I want to be an accountant because in accounting, everything is pretty much the same, other than the numbers and some of the variables. It’s a sturdy career choice.”

Sports have been a way for Murray, who also played basketball and volleyball at West, to have something else she can control. That’s especially true in track, where success or failure is solely contingent on her.

“The only thing I can really control is what I do at school, what I do in my sports,” Murray said. “It plays a role in why I care so much about sports. It’s up to me. It’s my little piece of the world.”

She qualified for the state meet in the 200 and 400 meters the past three years — once in 6A, twice in 5A — and qualified for 6A in the 100 as a junior. She placed fourth twice and third once in the 400.

“She’s very goal-oriented, and I think some of that is because she’s had to take on so much responsibility at a young age,” West track coach Sandy Nixon said.

Cheering section

Murray doesn’t have to search for her mother at track meets. She’ll hear her voice before she sees her, likely sitting in her wheelchair in front of the stands.

“It means the most to me to see her cheering, yelling and banging her cane,” Murray said. “She almost got kicked out of a volleyball match. It’s what she does, and I appreciate it.”

Her mother brings a cooler full of goodies to track meets for Murray and her teammates.

“She is a team mom,” Murray said. “… She has crackers, bananas, apples, lots and lots of water. Her just being there for me, it just makes me feel good.”

Weakness and worry

Jodi Morabito will tell you she’s weak.

The weakness in her body can be incapacitating. She uses a cane to overcome her dragging left foot, and she can’t lift much weight. Worse, she knows she can’t support her daughter like she wants. But the worst part is, she knows how hard her daughter’s life has been.

“It kills me that she had to grow up so fast,” Morabito said. “If I have to have her drive me to the emergency room, I have her get a hold of my mom or one of her brothers so they can get up here and she’s not by herself.”

Last fall, she had stroke symptoms and doesn’t remember anything from her two weeks in the intensive care unit. She heard later that when her daughter arrived to see her, Murray immediately began sobbing.

“It hurts me because my kids have to go through this,” Murray’s mother said. “But it was not my choice. If it was my choice, I wouldn’t have her take me up there or be up there with me.”

Murray doesn’t have to look at her mother to recognize the signs of an impending stroke. When she hears her mother’s speech become unintelligible, she knows to get her to the emergency room.

The constant worry of her mother being by herself if her health suddenly fails eats at Murray. It’s why her ferocity wobbles.

Murray admits to often choosing to stay home instead of hanging out with her friends, but her mom encourages her to be a teen.

“We take it day by day. I try not to let it affect me too much,” Murray said. “I try to live my life and do the things I want and need to do as a high school student.”

Bright future

The pride Jodi Morabito has for her daughter is clear, even though her voice has started to fade with the strain of talking for so long.

“She’s a very strong lady,” she said. “I know she loves me and I love her with everything I have.”

Murray has a tattoo of a butterfly on her left leg, a constant memory of her grandfather.

Her mom and grandmother are always there, too. Ready to give her a hug, send her a good-luck text or tell her how proud they are of her.

Murray’s plan is for a future lined with success. It has to be.

“I don’t have any other choice but to do well if I want to be successful,” Murray said. “My grandma and mom, they make it a point that I mean something great to them. That means so much.”

This story was originally published May 9, 2015 at 8:15 PM with the headline "West sprinter Angelia Murray lifted by support of mother, grandmother."