The Beginning

My journey through losing my mom is not one I ever imagined, especially the way it ended. In 2004 my mom was first diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer. It was caught early thanks to Buddy, our old pup who would constantly “smell” my mom’s chest. This encouraged her to check for lumps, and to her surprise she felt one. I remember asking her years later her reaction to the news. Fear and devastation took over she told me. She was a wife with two young girls, and every possible life event she would miss swept through her mind. My mom also lost her own mother at a young age to cancer and knew exactly what the future would look like for our family without her.

My sister and I were young, 12 and 14. We didn’t understand the details surrounding her diagnosis at that age, but we were old enough to understand cancer was a ”bad word”. Cancer embodies everything tragic, terrifying, and unknown stopping anyone right in their tracks. With this disease, answers are never known immediately, there is a lot of testing and waiting for results. This was the toughest part, at least it was for me. Always wanting answers and next steps but needing to wait days, weeks and sometimes up to a month for results and next steps. I felt helpless, lost, and alone. I wanted to find the words to comfort my mom and I realized I will never be able to fix this or make it better. The stages of grief began and I had no control where my mind took me.

Mom opted to receive a lumpectomy to remove the tumor, and radiation and chemotherapy treatments in order to become cancer free, which she thankfully did! She had been in remission for 12 years when my sister graduated college. She always lived life to the fullest with a positive attitude and wanted to see the good in everyone. She was the absolute sweetest human, always inviting people over and just wanting to be around friends and family. Her laugh was contagious, and her famous soups always had our family waiting at the dinner table. As time went on and we thought cancer was in our rear view mirror, our family would be gearing up for another heartbreaking ride.

In 2016, a blizzard shocked Maryland with over 2 feet of snow in some areas. I remember being so excited to be stuck home with my now husband watching movies while not having to go to work. Much like everyone else, my parents took time over that week clearing snow. A few weeks after the storm, my mom was complaining about her back. She ventured to the doctor without much worry as she assumed it was from shoveling. The day we were supposed to get results about my mom, Hannah and I didn’t hear anything from our mom or dad. It was a bit strange (my mom responded to texts incredibly fast) but also not a cause for concern. We eventually got calls from my dad to come over and I remember still not thinking anything terrible had happened.. maybe they had just gotten busy. I drove to my parents house a bit distracted because clearly something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t think of anything that could be wrong.

Hannah and I arrived at the same time and as we walked in the door my dad was on the couch and my mom wasn’t there. I took one look at my dad and knew this wasn’t good. The news we received what not something I ever imagined hearing again: cancer. Worse, metastatic cancer. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even process what was just said to me as I stared at my dad who had tears in his eyes and hearing Hannah begin to cry. Everything stood still and I just sat on the floor for what felt like an hour watching my dogs look out the window at birds. My mind first went to “is my mom ok?”, which of course she wasn’t ok! But where was she?

With this diagnosis, we knew my mom would pass from the cancer, as it is considered stage 4. My mom needed time to process the news on her own a bit longer but wanted us to know immediately which is why my dad delivered the news alone. After some time with just the three of us, my mom walked in with tears in her eyes and we all just hugged one another for a bit. It felt that was all we could do in that moment.

The first year was incredibly tough on all of us as a family. We are all individuals who process news and information differently. We learned how to talk to one another open and honestly, while respecting the boundaries of what we could mentally handle. While the four of us learned this “new normal”, medications began to slow the cancer down and we felt that we were able to take a breath for a minute and have our brains catch up. It feels weird to say it felt “good” but given the circumstance, it was good!

The next 4 years things remained the same. My mom’s scans would come back good every few months and our family began to find joy again. We attended gatherings, had a wedding, bought a beach home (my moms dream), and took vacations. It was refreshing to spend time together and create wonderful memories. Those years were some of the best which is truly weird to say. We always knew anything could change at any point, and our family cherished all time together knowing that. One positive (if you can call it that) with a sick loved one is knowing you’re on borrowed time and you can take the time to be in the moment and create precious memories. We all talked a lot about the future with and without my mom. We were able to say anything and everything we needed to in order to grieve little by little which is something I am very thankful for. There were tears, and there were also so many laughs. But, good times don’t last forever.

April 2020, the first time in 4 years we did not receive a positive scan. I can not put into words how devastating and terrifying that was for our family. I was 7 months pregnant at the time and my mind immediately went to “what if my mom doesn’t know my daughter?” I had no choice but to try to remain positive as I always had great confidence in my mom's doctors. They would have a plan, right? They would know what to do, right? Our family was so used to our “new normal” and I was determined not to spiral right before I was about to have my first child, her first grandchild. Wishing only gets us so far though…

Unfortunately, we know the outcome of what transpired over my mom’s last year on earth or I wouldn’t be writing this blog. Mom passed away April 30, 2021 in hospice care. The details of the hospice experience are incredibly fresh and traumatic for me, and I want to share that with you all in my own time while not feeling rushed. I owe it to myself, my dad, my sister and most importantly my mom to spend the necessary time writing the hardest and longest part of our journey.

I hope I can help anyone who may be experiencing a cancer journey in feeling seen In their grief. A loved one being sick is one of the hardest roads to travel. There are so many puzzle pieces you are trying to fit together to have something make sense, only for pieces to always be missing. The. Emotions. I can’t even begin to say how many ups and downs there were or how exhausting dealing with them was.. and still is! One thing my mom always did was treat others as if she didn’t know what happened to them that day, and I absolutely encourage anyone to breathe in those tough situations. We never truly know if someone just received news that will change their life forever, and kindness goes a long way.

Remember, you won’t always be fine.. and that’s ok.

Love,

Chels