I would like to dedicate the launch of my blog to my mom. Today is the eighth anniversary of the day she lost her second, battle with cancer.
This post isn’t about cancer, or battling cancer, or anything medical. It’s about cherishing life, treasuring the ones you love, and not waiting for the perfect time to live it to it’s fullest, or to wait until it’s “perfect” to enjoy it.
All too often, we get stuck into a routine of going through the motions, and we get caught up in the must do’s and the need to do’s, and we forget to slow down, to take a deep breath and experience what is going on around us. It’s usually when we have experience a tragedy or loss that makes us stop and regroup.
Don’t let this be you. Take the time to enjoy living, to appreciate the small things, and appreciate the tiny, brief moments that make life so precious.
I was working three jobs when my mom was diagnosed. Yes, three. As much as I knew my mom’s health was failing, I didn’t feel like I could take time off. I felt pressured to work to keep my bosses and my husband happy. I have never been one to say no, or put my needs before the needs of anyone around me. Don’t make the same mistake I did.
I have learned over the past few years that I’ve spent most of my life doing things to please others. I couldn’t bear knowing I was going to lose her, but I didn’t see a way I could have spent more time with her without upsetting anyone else.
She stayed optimistic and positive about life until she got close to the end. She even decided to go through a second round of chemo in her last year to try and beat the cancer. She wanted to spend more time here. More time with her family, her kids, her grandkids. She wanted to see them grow up, and be a part of their lives and their milestones and successes.
Because I was under so much pressure to do everything and be everything to everyone else, I lost out. I lost out on time with her. She was my best friend, my everything. And somehow I let everyone else dictate how much time I had to spend with her. My people pleaser mentality was SO great and so overbearing, I was willing to sacrifice my time with her. I did this for people I didn’t care about, for jobs I hated, and for money I could have surely found a way to live without. I was so wrapped up in not making any riffs, not making anyone mad or upset with me, that I lost out on something I’ll never be able to recover.
Everyone in the family came to see her on Monday evening, and she was alert, in a good mood, not sad at all, and really appreciated the love she got from everyone that day. I can still hear her telling me that evening that she loved me as I was leaving.
In the end, she waited for me. I had gotten a couple of phone calls from the hospice nurse in the few days before. She waited until all three of her kids could be there. I worked until the late evening the night before she passed, so I could take the following day off.
It was a Thursday. I don’t remember what I did that morning, but I remember getting to my parents home in the morning, and sitting, waiting. I gave her her last dose of medicine, not knowing at the time that it would be the last. I just remember feeling that she was close. She was unresponsive, and had been since Tuesday, the day after everyone came to visit her. I was reading in the same room with her, when I noticed her breathing change.
I knew it was time. Even though she was unresponsive and never opened her eyes, she knew everyone that mattered to her was there. Me, her two boys (my half brothers) and my dad. Her husband of almost 40 years. It would have been fourty if she had made it to November 1st.
I could feel it. I told my brothers and my dad who were sitting out on the back patio that it was time. I held her hand and I told her it was okay. When we were all in the room with her, she went quietly.
I’m so glad she waited for me. It was her last gift to me, to be able to be with her when she died. She knew exactly how I was, and she knew I wasn’t able to spend as much time with her as I wanted. Even though I didn’t get to see her smile or hear her laugh on her last day on Earth, I will treasure being able to be with her and hold her hand, just as much as she wanted to spend her last few minutes here with me.
She was the strongest person I know. She was the glue that held our family together. She had been through so much over the course of her life. She was born in the depression era, raised in the hills of Virginia where she had to go and fetch water everyday, she was physically abused by her first husband, survived cancer, lived with chronic illness, suffered a mental breakdown that hospitalized her, and battled depression. Despite everything she went through, she raised three kids, and she taught me so much.
She laughed every chance she got, and showed me how to find the positive in every moment, no matter how tough the situation was.
I want to share with you some of what she taught me. To see the positive, to be the change, to make the best of every situation, to enjoy life and have a good time no matter what challenges you may be facing, to keep your family and loved ones close, and to keep your chin up.
No matter what.
