One year ago, my mom was diagnosed with stage 3b breast cancer. It was October 19, 2019 that she called to tell me the news. I was shocked and devastated. I had accomplished something pretty big earlier that day and was getting a lot of congratulatory texts but, suddenly, none of that mattered. After my mom and I got off the phone, my roommate and I wandered around Home Goods and then I cried in a Chipotle. It was a rough night.
The next morning, I clicked on a song that was recommended for me on YouTube: The Other Side by Lauren Alaina. I SOBBED. To this day, when I hear this song, it makes me emotional (I’m getting choked up as I write this) because it is my mom’s mindset to a T. The chorus goes like this:
Don’t you cry for me ’cause I’m in God’s glory
And I can see his face, it’s amazing
I know you have doubts, but I see it right now
I promise it’s real, keep praying
I’ll be waiting, take your time and go write a story
That you can’t wait to tell me
On the other side
“Go write a story you can’t wait to tell me.” is exactly what she would say. Like, this woman once told me that if she died while I was off in some foreign country doing good, I shouldn’t come back for her funeral. THAT is the kind of person she is and it amazes me.
Thankfully, it hasn’t come to that but it’s been a very long year for her; chemo, radiation, and surgeries. Going through all of that, on top of the 2020 apocalypse that we’re currently facing, surly has not been easy. Through all of this, my mom has been steadfast in her support and concern for me and my sisters. Despite all of her own shit, she’s continued to help us navigate our lives; spending hours on the phone with us listening to all of our shit (and let me tell ya, 2 college grads in the middle of a pandemic has made for a lot of shit). Her decisions regarding treatment revolved around my little sister, who still lives at home. In the thick of her chemo and surgery, my mom wanted to make things as normal as possible for Margaret.
My mother has fought this with so much grace and strength. She is truly the strongest person I know. It would have been easy, and understandable, for her to feel sorry for herself but that’s just not the kind of person she is. I’ve never once heard her ask, ‘Why me?’ instead, she’s says, ‘it is what it is,’ brings cupcakes to the nurses at the clinic, and keeps going.
Almost exactly a year to her diagnosis, it looks like she’s out of the woods for the moment (hoping it’s a 40+ year long moment). So, I wanted to write this post to say:
Mom, this past year, I’ve seen you. Your grace, your strength, your bravery. You are the fiercest warrior and strongest woman I’ve ever met, and I am so proud to be your daughter. From you, I have learned how to be the strong, confident, independent, woman I am. You are loved, valued, appreciated.
And to the women who have held my mom up over this past year; Sharon, Jane, Nancy, Joy, Aunt Janet, Aunt Julie, Jill, anyone else I’m missing, I can not express how much peace of mind it gave me, over this past year, to know that my mom had such amazing friends by her side. You, too, are loved, valued, and appreciated. I can’t even begin to express how thankful I am for all of you.
Here’s to you Mom, for all you’ve survived and all the adventures yet to come. I love you.
Hugs,
