The kids are alright (and Wally is too), but cancer still sucks. It’s been 5.5 months since I held my mom’s hand. It’s been 5.25 months since I talked with my mom.
This past weekend, we went back to the cemetery. It was 6 degrees at the burial and 86 degrees this past weekend. A lot has happened in those 80 degrees, those almost 6 months. It was dad’s birthday. It would’ve been mom’s birthday. It was Wally’s birthday. It was Passover. It was mother’s day. Another year of school for Max and I ended. It was father’s day. It’s almost Max’s birthday.
There’s so much to tell Mom- to laugh about, gossip about, roll our eyes at. It’s strange how life keeps going on. Another day goes by that I couldn’t pick up the phone and call her. You start using past tense verbs: she was, she liked, she was, she joked, she was, she said. She was. It’s strange to say “was” because Mom is absolutely still here. Everything I do I think of my mom; what she would say or do, the advice she would give, how she would say it like it is.
Mom always looked for the silver linings. She always said, “Life is what you make of it. Some people will be miserable and complain about the obstacles and challenges in their life. Not me. I choose to accept what is, let go of what was, and have faith in what will be.” I am still in awe of her. She went through one of the worst things life can throw your way and she did it with such grace and dignity. When I’m stressed and want to stomp my feet and pull my hair, I can hear her telling me it like it is, “hey, at least it’s not cancer.” And I have to laugh because yeah, it’s not cancer.
There’s no good in complaining or being miserable. Life is not easy; everyone has something, but Cancer still sucks. We can still be mad at Cancer. Because of Cancer I have shed more tears than I ever wanted to. Because of Cancer we lost some of the most amazing energy and laughter and joy. Because of Cancer my World has stopped when my mom was diagnosed the first time, the second time, and when she took her last breath. What Cancer did at the end is for another blog post, but 80 degrees later and I am still mad at Cancer.
We can take that anger and continue Mom’s advocacy for MBC research. We can take her faith, energy, and positivity forward with us. Mom, we’re alright.