Half of my life

Today, November 6th, seems to be a bit harder than years past. Every year is hard but this year it has been 12 years since my mom has passed away. I was 12 when she died and now I’m 24. I have now lived half of my life without her. How is that possible?

I was 6 when my mom was diagnosed with cancer. So when she passed away I had lived half of my life with a sick mom. Because of this, this is how I remember her. I remember shortly after my mom passed away we gave my dad a picture of my mom. It was the last picture we ever took together, the day before my sisters birthday and 19 days before she died. She was in the hospital bed at our house and me, Josh, and Rebecca were crowded around her. I just knew he would love this picture. But I kept seeing him take it down and I’d put it back up and this continued over and over again. Finally he told us he just couldn’t look at our mom at that stage of her life anymore. That’s not how he wanted to remember her. And I get it but thats how I knew her.

Some, if not all, of my very first/all of my memories are of my mom when she was sick. I remember being in first grade and having my classmates sign a very large card and my teacher (who had all three of me and my sibs) celebrate with me when she came home from the hospital the first time. I remember walking in the mall and her holding my arm saying she had had a seizure (not visible to others which made it even more scary) and needed to sit down. I remember when her license was taken away. I remember staying home instead of going to sleepovers because I would’ve rather spent time with my mom.

I’m 24 and I have spent half of my life with my mom in heaven. To write these words just seems cruel and unreal. My life revolves around making her proud. I strive to exhibit her kindness and courage. I long to hear stories about her that I’ve never heard before. Or hear people talk about what she was like and how we are alike.

A girl losing her mom is a deep kind of loss. I was in the 7th grade. The majority of people in my life now never knew my mom. And that is very very hard for me. My best friends never knew her. My boyfriend never knew her. It’s hard to talk about someone in your life that means so much to you but they’ve never met and will never understand what it was like during that time in my life.

My mom never saw me graduate high school. She won’t see me graduate college in May, which for me is a very big accomplishment and has taken a long time. I don’t get to call her and tell her about my internship placement in a couple of weeks. Or ask her for advice on what I should do after college. I don’t get to ask her for advice in general. She won’t be at my wedding or see any of her grandchildren. It’s hard to remember what she sounded like or even smelled like. I don’t remember the things that she liked to do or what her favorite movies were. I think I make up memories to replace that hole of not knowing or remembering. I still can’t listen to the song ‘I can only imagine’ because it played at her funeral. The memories I do have, I take to the extreme. My love for law and order SVU, Charlie Brown, and One Tree Hill are all because she (and my sister) watched those and I got to watch them with her.

As thankful as I am for all of my second mommas out there, it’ll never be the same. It stills hurts to be around other families. It hurts being able to watch mother/daughter relationships and not being able to experience that anymore. I don’t think it’ll ever not be hard. And that’s okay. I wouldn’t be the person I am today if I hadn’t lost my mom. I wouldn’t have the passion for the specific population I want to work with if I hadn’t lost my mom. I wouldn’t be able to be there in a very empathic and compassionate way for my friends who have joined this horrible club of losing a parent. I honestly don’t know who I would be. I like the person I am. I love the passion I have for cancer patients and their families and I have big dreams to help them and love on them in the future.

Everyone handles grief differently and starting this blog three years ago was a way for me to get out some of the feelings I had been holding in. Friends often try to avoid the conversation around my parents. People still tip toe around me once they find out my parents have passed. And that hurts me the most. More than anything I want to talk about my parents. About who they were, what we were like as a family, or even about how they died. The more people ask, the more I remember memories and don’t lose them. I recognize the reason why people may feel uncomfortable bringing the subject up because they are unaware of what to say or how to react. But at least for me, I want to be able to share their legacy. However, what I don’t want is for you to tell me it gets better over time or that you understand. Even if you’ve lost a parent, each experience is different and that’s not the best way to comfort someone. I’ve learned over the past few years not to talk about it or to bring up my parents because it makes others uncomfortable or they feel I’m trying to overshadow their pain and I never want that to happen. You never know what a person is going through and everyone’s pain is significant no matter how big or little it may be.

Often, people don’t understand why I am the way I am on anniversary’s. I try to be brave and strong every day of my life. I don’t want to feel pitied. So on the anniversary’s of my parents passing I take a personal day. I often don’t respond to people’s calls or texts. It’s not that I’m ignoring you. It’s just I feel the need to take a day and remember, silently and alone, my parents. I take this day to be sad and remember. I watch our favorite movies, drink coffee, I visit with them at the grave site. I do all things that remind me of them and I’m sad. And for that day, it’s okay to be sad.

Every day I live from this point forward will be more time spent without my mom than with her. That was a hard realization for me to grasp. It’s not fair and it never will be. I will miss her every single day of my life. There still, after 12 years, isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about her. I pray I make her proud in my decisions. I hope I show the same kindness and compassion that she showed.

Hug your parents. Love them a little extra today and everyday. Remember they nag you because they love you. They care about your decisions because they care about you. They want you to grow into a strong confident person. You never know when you will find out they aren’t here anymore. So let them love you and love them back.

Mom, I love you yesterday, today, and tomorrow and I will miss you always.

“Your Mother is always with you. She’s the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street. She’s the smell of certain foods you remember. Flowers you pick and perfume that she wore. She’s the cool hand on your brow when you’re not feeling well. She’s your breath in the air on a cold winter’s day. She is the sound of the rain that lulls you to sleep. The colors of a rainbow. She is Christmas morning. Your Mother lives inside your laughter. She’s crystallized in every teardrop. A Mother shows every emotion…happiness, sadness, fear, jealousy, love, hate, anger, helplessness, excitement, joy, sorrow…and all the while, hoping and praying you will only know the good feelings in life. She’s the place you came from, your first home, and she’s the map you follow with every step you take. She’s your first love; your first friend, even your first enemy, but nothing on earth can separate you. Not time. Not space. Not even death.”