Late Night Rambling

When I was told in January that my mom had 6 months to a year left, I really put a lot of hope into that timeframe. I didn't set my sites on January 2016, I set it on the minimum...6 months. Which would have been this month. As most of you know, things did not go as planned and she's been gone for over 3 months.

In all my life I only remember her being sick once, and that was when she found out after 40+ years that she was allergic to shrimp. I remember how sad she was (and continued to be) when she couldn't eat shrimp. It was one of her favorites. She finally got to a place where she would pick the 2 (sometimes 3) biggest shrimp from the group and eat those and be fine. But any more was really playing with fire.

I had 28 years of her being my mom. I got really lucky in that somewhere along the way, my mom became my best friend. And if I'm being honest it was probably somewhere in the middle of my college years. Right around the time of her diagnosis. It really wasn't until then that she became human to me...and I realized that I could lose her much sooner than I had planned. Which was an unshakeable feeling that would come and go. She would beat it, think she'd be done, then it would show back up again. Towards the end, that feeling just stuck around all the time. I always thought I would go before her. I know, that's weird. I'm the child, she's the parent, it's not "supposed" to work that way. But I think it was because I could not imagine my would without her. Honestly, I couldn't imagine anyone's world (even people that didn't know her) without her. She was just too important. Too special.

After her diagnosis was when I saw how strong she really was. There was one year, around the beginning, that she lost all of her hair and really looked sick. After that, I would sometimes forget. She was still living life. And when she couldn't get out of the house, she'd find stuff to do there...her pictures books, thank you notes, etc. It wasn't until the very end that it was noticeable. And even still, her strength and faith shined bright.

This journey, which I have to be really honest here...She was diagnosed around February 2007. And for me, from 2007 to summer of 2014 I really thought she had this beat. But things kept happening and nothing really felt good anymore. But January 2015's diagnosis is when it really felt like this journey began. It felt like pieces of my soul (what made me, me), were chipping away. I didn't know what to do. As things got worse, as she got worse, the pieces being chipped got bigger. Then she was gone...and I was gone too.

It's still surreal to think that she's not here. That I can't hug her or hold her hand. I still pick up the phone to call her after a long day of work. And while I really have no intentions of getting married or having kids, it's extremely sad to think that if I ever did, she wouldn't be here for it. It's sad that she's not here to see me figure out who I really am, or what I really want to do with my life.  It's not the same. Nothing will ever, ever be same.

However, I really do believe that her faith helped her to stick around for as long as she did. I'm doing my best to have a little more of it. I get by with a little a lot of help from my friends, and my family, and my friends that have become family.

I'll miss you forever. I'll love you for always.