Mom

For many years I had not seen my mother.  Twelve years and 6 months to be exact.  It's a long story and one I'm not ready to share.  My mother had only met Sarah once; when Sarah was 11 months old.  Yes, Sarah is now 13 1/2 yrs old.  Mom never, yes NEVER,  met Grace and Analiese. Our relationship consisted of phone calls, photos and gifts on special occasions.

Until October.   That's when my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer.  It had already spread to her liver when she was diagnosed.  Up to that point she had been battling emphysema.  We even finished our basement so she could come and live with us because of her breathing difficulties.  But that's all part of the story I'm not ready to share.

I was stunned, no, maybe surprised.  I don't know, I just wasn't expecting lung cancer.  My Mom had quit smoking years ago.  I thought that the emphysema was what eventually would be her demise.   Mom not only had lung cancer, she had small cell lung cancer which is very, very aggressive.

So, here I was faced with a very real, very serious situation.  How in the HELL do I deal with this???  Because of certain things, yes, it's part of that story again that I'm not ready to share,  I had already decided that I was NOT going to ever see her again.  But, there was a part of me who did not agree with that decision.  It was that same part of me that finished the basement, the same part of me that couldn't let go and walk away.

I don't know WHAT to name that PART of me.  All I know is that I talked to Dave and told him that I wanted, no needed, to go to Philadelphia to see my mother.  AND that I wanted our daughters to meet their grandmother and I wanted her to know them!

So a week before November we got in the car and drove to Philadelphia.  It was a VERY long drive (another story  for another time).  By the time of our trip my mother had already undergone one round of chemo.  We had hoped that she would have bounced back from that treatment and felt good enough to receive visitors at home.

Well cancer just doesn't care what you think.  What happened is that my mother was in the hospital due to complications from the chemo/cancer during our visit.  So, instead of driving to my childhood home, we drove to the hospital.

Once at the hospital I was a wreck.  I was so nervous, so afraid, so scared.  Yes, ALL part of the "story I'm not ready to share".  When we got to Mom's room, I was shocked, and so, so saddened.  The woman I was afraid to face was old and sick.

For so many reasons I am so glad that we made the trip to see my Mom.  She is fighting hard to beat the cancer and for that I support and applaud her.  My girls LOVE their grandmother and they SHOULD!  

My feelings are more mixed than they ever have been.  I have more sadness than ever.  THAT I chalk up to progress.  I honestly hope that the next trip I make back to Philadelphia is not for Mom's funeral.  I'd like to spend time with her outside of the hospital.  To talk. And maybe resolve some things.

Some day I'll be ready to share my story.  But not now.  And I certainly won't preach to all of you how important it is to reconnect or how short life is.

 Because, now, I need to pray for a miracle.