March 1

March 1, 2012, mom underwent surgery to figure out what exactly was going on in her head. She was actually misdiagnosed with a stroke at first. It didn’t have the normal characteristics of a tumor. Some suggested it may be MS. So she went in at 7am and we waited. And the longer we waited, the more we knew that it probably wasn’t going to be the news we wanted. The phone finally rang and it was actually mom (they let dad talk to her a couple times during the craniotomy ). I remember it quite clearly. Dad’s voice breaking while he said “we will figure it out. We will do it together”. He hung up and told us it was a tumor. My face fell into my hands and I sobbed and sobbed.
March 1, 2013. Happy Tumor Removal Day is what we called it. One year since her original tumor was removed. We went out to celebrate. It was a day of hope. She was doing so well. A day of celebration. It had also been 7 months of clean scans. It was just mom and her kiddos and grand babies.
March 1, 2014. It has been 6 months and 9 days since my mother, best friend, my confidant left this world. 6 months of watching my dad every Sunday rub his wedding ring during church songs. 6 months of praying every night to have a dream of mom. 6 months of thinking “what would mom do. What would mom say.” Yes she is in a better place. Yes she isn’t in pain. Yes she has full use of her arms and legs. Some days those thoughts make me feel good. Some days I just so desperately want her back. In any form. I’m amazed sometimes at the amount of days I can go where I am “ok”. Days that I can smile and laugh and it’s for real. Days where I don’t cry at all. And then all of a sudden I will have a string of days where everything reminds me of her and everything makes me weepy. I know a day will come where I will see or hear something that reminds me of her and I can smile instead of cry. Until then, tissues remain close 🙂
The picture below was taken on the day of the Tumor Removal Celebration.


About Sherry

I'm not sure about me yet. I lost my mom, my best friend, my confidant to brain cancer. I see the good it has brought in others, I'm just not sure yet how it has changed me for the better. Her kindness and finding joy in sadness has been passed to us, but this is a pain I have never felt. I know she would not want us sitting around crying, she would want us enjoying each other and laughing and continue to grow closer. She loved when we all got together and just laughed and that's what we have been doing. But honestly, I'm really scared of life without her. I relied on her for everything. Most of my time was spent with her, so I'm just not sure about me. I just take it day by day and try to find the beauty of gray.
This entry was posted in The Beauty of Gray and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to March 1

  1. Jeanie Mason says:

    I miss her too and pray for you and your family in her loss. Thanks for sharing about your brave, beautiful mom!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s