I can remember the day that my mom told us she had cancer. She called and asked us to meet her and my dad for dinner. My kid’s were too young to understand. I think for a long time my whole family didn’t understand. She was a good woman. She didn’t drink or smoke, and she loved her family.
I can also remember the day, five years later, that I had to tell her I had cancer. I’ve never figured out which was worse; hearing her tell us or knowing being a mother myself how hard it would be to hear that about her child. But she gave me strength to fight because as mothers do, they teach us how to get through anything.
I lost my mom four months later with three treatments left, but my counts were back to normal. I know she would not have let go if she didn’t know I would be okay. I’ve been in remission for three years and miss her everyday. I would love to be able to tell her thank you for fighting for five years, and giving my children memories of her, and for watching over me. I know if she were here she would say thanks to my sister for being the one there for both of us anytime or any day we needed her.
The informational content of this article is intended to convey a personal experience and, because every person’s experience is unique, should not be relied upon as a substitute for professional healthcare advice.
This story is intended to convey a personal experience and, because every person’s experience is unique, should not be relied upon as a substitute for professional healthcare advice.