A Decade

I watched my mother die. I was 19 and the process was slow. She held on to life so dearly. She wanted to see the grandson she had been waiting to meet (he was born 14 days later). She wanted to be sure that it was OK to let go, to be sure that her husband and her three children would be OK. Eventually, either she grew tired of holding on or she knew that we would be OK. She died late at night and it was pouring rain.

Do you know what that did to me? It changed me. Forever. For the first few years it just made me sad and mad. I couldn’t (and still don’t) understand why it happened to her. To us. She was a good woman and the best mother. I was always able to deal with my sadness, anger and confusion through words, spoken and written. I always kept a journal. I would visit her grave on April 10th and on Mother’s Day with the journal and write until my hands cramped. I have always talked openly about her death. Now, a decade later, her death has left me with a raw and honest passion. I want to educate people. I want to make a difference.

It is so frustrating to watch people with a “passion” which is really just self fulfillment. Don’t drink the Kool Aid kids! Think outside of the box about education. Every single person needs education regarding cancer. Not just the wealthy. Not just the poor. Not just young or old, male or female. All. This isn’t about you as the volunteer. This is about helping, educating, and changing the world.

Hug your moms, your aunts and your sisters. Let them know you love them. I still let my mother know I love her, everyday.