Remembering Mom #1

I've been wanting to write for a long time, and I think now is the time...

For those of you who aren't too familiar with where I am in life, my sweet Mommy went to be with Jesus last June. I'm in the middle of a lot of milestones, so my mind is often on her. March 20th would've been her 30th wedding anniversary with my Dad, and March 26th would've been her 54th birthday. Between those times and the impending anniversary of her death, I am often reminded of so many beautiful memories I have of her.

I remember the day she found out that the cancer had gone to her brain. It was March 23rd - smack dab between her anniversary and her birthday. The worst part about the day is that I knew that it was coming. We'd been through so many deadlines and prognoses that I was prepared for bad news at every corner. BUT, she had been doing well. She looked healthy, felt good, took constant care of her grandkids, and was loving the spring season.

Then, it came. Her face became numb. I knew the moment she told me that symptom it meant brain cancer. I prayed, cried, thought, cried some more, and tried to remain strong - until I got the phone call. It was literally the phone call that changed my life forever.

Mom said, "This is the end of my life. I have brain cancer."

I couldn't do anything except drop to the floor. I couldn't move. I tried to stay strong and talk to her about the treatment she was going to go through... But, I couldn't. I just wept, told Mom that I loved her, and said that I would talk with her soon.

I cried for what seemed like hours, my head pounding fiercely. I called my friend, who'd lost a parent to brain cancer, and asked her to come over. I remember that visit vividly, yet I know that I was in another world -- a world that would continue with the worst sleepless days and nights, doctor's office visits and hospital admissions, quiet times at home and sweet times with our family.

When my dear friends had left, I went outside. It was raining, and I sat on my porch with a glass of wine and my journal. Here's a little peak into some of my thoughts that night:

"I wish I could transfer the cancer to me because Mom loves life so well. I wish that she could give it to me and live. I will never know why things like this happen, I don't think. Maybe it is that I do not have enough faith. Strong enough faith. Big enough faith. But I would like to meet the person who has faith big enough to accept this. The darkness in this world seems too dark. Too much. I want to see the light. I know it is there, but I can't find it sometimes. So, I'll just take one step at a time and trust that the mercies that have been promised to me for 24 years will be new each morning for the rest of my life. And Mom's life, too."

Sometimes it's so hard to go through the memories, through my journal, through my pictures, but I love it. I love the memories I have, as miserable as they may be, because they are the signs of the huge love my Mom had for me. And I for her.

Thanks for reading. I'm going to attach a picture with each entry I do because I love pictures. And cherish them now more than I ever have before.