The Elephant in the Room
So let’s talk Cancer.
[Are you uncomfortable yet?]
My experience since my mom was diagnosed has been that people easily are.
They always ask, “How is your mom doing?”
But what they are really saying is:
“I am trying to be polite right now. Please just answer that she is doing well so we can move past this unsettling conversation and talk about the latest Biebs news”
I get it.
I get it and so I respond, “she is doing well. Now tell me more about your
super interesting pop culture Biebs update.”
Quick subject change.
I’ve noticed that when I don’t do this and purely answer the truth about my mom, there is a long silence: The Elephant in the room.
Sometimes I really wish it was socially acceptable to tell someone, “No, I’m not okay” or “Actually she’s been feeling pretty shitty. She’s scared, tired, and worried”.
But alas, it is not. Which is why I created a blog.
If you don’t want to know how my mom is REALLY doing or how I am REALLY coping, then I would discourage you from reading.
That being said:
This is my mama Terri.
Things You Should Know About Her:
- She cries watching Hallmark commercials
- Her favorite movie is Gidget
- When you’re sad [well not you, but me] she will do her amazingly
terribleawesome version of the running man
- Coffee is her vice [one that I have inherited since starting a 9-5]
- Her heart is in the people she loves and she will do anything for them
My mom and I have always had a special relationship.
We gossip. We have inside jokes. We laugh together. We cry together. We tell each other almost everything, good or bad. We talk every single day.
Derek pokes fun because every month when he gets our phone bill the only person called on mine is my mom.
I think I’ve made my point: I love my mom.
So this is hard.
The fear. The uncertainty.
As the oldest, it has been engraved in my brain that I am supposed to be strong and optimistic… and I am, most of the time.
Sometimes I just want to scream.
Sometimes when you ask me about my mom, it takes everything I have to hold back the tears, to hold back the pain.
I am not one to talk about my feelings [such a weird girl I know]
I don’t like to show weakness.
This is new, so I am sorry if it seems as though I have just thrown up emotions all over this page [because that’s exactly what I’ve done]
I think about the future often. I try not to, but I feel as though I can’t help it.
Will my children know my mom in the same special way that I knew my grandma?
Who will I talk to? Who will give me advice and encouragement when everything feels wrong?
What will happen to my family, when my mom is the glue that holds us together?
Muhammad Ali wisely said “Don’t count the days, make the days count.”
I’m trying to live by this.
Today my mom is alive. She is alive and she is smiling.
Today I am blessed.
“Feed your faith and your fears will starve to death.”