11.17.2014

Cancer Has 'Good Days'

I'm posting a picture I have not shared with anyone but my husband, dad, and sisters. This is my mom, surrounded by her daughters. Sick with cancer, but a gentle smile on her face. 

When I think back on why I never shared it, I realize it's the social media society that we live in today. One that covers up 'real life' with filters and fancy #hashtags. This picture has no filter. It's raw. It's a woman. A mom. Battling cancer. No fancy hashtag here. If I were to slap a hashtag on it, I guess I would go with #lungcancer. But I'd also make sure to include #goodday #mother #wife #grandma #friend #love #fighter. And on that day, my mom, sisters, and I were smiling, laughing and genuinely having a good day. It's what you cannot see in this picture that made it such a good day. Here's it is.
My mom was not doing well prior to this day. Doctor's and oncologists had given her a dim perspective on her cancer's progression and we were basically told to prepare ourselves for our mom's 'final days.' Our dad had called us with this news on a cold fall day in early November. I made the drive to Michigan, met up with my sisters, and we made the drive 'home' that night. They let us visit her late that night, but she was tired, we were tired, so we left and came back bright and early the next morning. We had laughs with mom, told her our crazy stories of pooling all our Speedy Rewards together to get cappuccinos on the way to the hospital that morning, and we shed a few tears. I don't think prior to this day my sisters and I discussed mom not being around anymore. We literally lived in the moment. Mom was requesting some comfy pants to wear in the hospital, so one of my sisters and I drove to the nearby K-Mart (yes, they still have those in our hometown) to find mom some pajama or yoga-type 'comfy' pants. While on this outting, my phone rang. It was my mom. It was hard to understand her. Her voice was dry from the oxygen she had been receiving. She said 'come back, you have to come.' My heart froze. I just kept saying 'why mom? why?' My tension eased a bit when I heard my older sister in the background laughing, along with a melody of other laughs. We found the pants and trekked back to the hospital. When we rounded the corner to my mom's room, it wasn't fear I felt anymore. It was bliss. It was happiness. My mom was smiling. She was laughing. She was posing with her hands on her seated hips for pictures. 
My mom had a roommate, also battling cancer, who she was very fond of. This roommate had an incredible set of friends who were making sure their friend was happy in her fight against cancer. They came into my moms room that day to take pictures of their friend to document her life and battle with cancer. They brought wigs, hats, dresses, a Santa suit, purses, and jewelry. My mom was having a ball. In this picture you can see her wig, big floppy hat, and a fancy dress adorning her frail, sick body. 
But along with all these accessories, you can she her living, and smiling with three people who loved her more than words can say. We were fortunate that these were not her 'final days.' She lived on, through Christmas of that year. We had plenty more smiles with her, plenty more laughs, and plenty more tears about losing mom behind closed doors.  We tried to keep things upbeat. That's how my family copes - with jokes and laughter. 
My mom lost her battle with lung cancer, at home, on December 31st, 2011. We were all there and I will never forget that moment. Not a day goes by where I do not think of my mom, want to call my mom, or be angry at the disease that took her life. I am a mom now - a mom learning to be a mom without a mom. It's the hardest thing I have ever done. But my mom sure gave me a genuine set of skills before I became a mom - and she's here with us. She's a beautiful monarch butterfly in the Peter Rabbit book my son and I read before every nap. We say goodnight to her along with Peter and Mr. McGregor. 

November is Lung Cancer Awareness Month