My Mom’s Greatest Lesson for Me

My mom is the reason for why I always wanted to become an artist. She’s going through the fight of her life right now. I shared this as a post 3 days ago and the response has been overwhelmingly positive filled with prayers, love, and support. I am willing to share it openly if it means it can possibly help someone else out there who is going through such an experience.

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This is the heaviest bit of writing I've ever taken the time to share. If you do not wish to read something emotional or lengthy, I urge you to keep scrolling. If, however, you are willing, you are welcome to grab a pillow, a box of Kleenex, and sit with me here for a bit…

Tonight, as I wished my mom "goodnight" and we said "I love you" to each other, the reality hit me that it could very well be the last time I'm able to wish her "goodnight" in person. My mom has been battling cancer for several years now. Although she received the dreaded diagnosis early last year, she was aware of a tumor growing as far back as two or three years ago, perhaps even longer.

Most of you don't know my mom, some of you have met her and a few of you know her quite well. I want to take some time to describe her and how wonderful she is. The photo shown was taken back in 2014, when she was cancer free and healthy. If you ask me to describe my mom, I'll always say, she's the sweetest, most patient, generous, quiet, delicate, adorable, thoughtful and most beautiful person I know. I'm not just saying that because she's my mom and I'm biased, I genuinely mean it... whatever it is you may think of me, she is 1,000 times better a person and shockingly quiet. She's slow to anger, she's an amazing listener (I mean she has me for a daughter), she loves to read, to write, to sew, to paint, and to draw.

When I was little, she used to sit and draw with me. Perhaps my earliest memory of my mom was when I was 3...there was a really bad thunderstorm rolling in, I felt scared sitting on my bed looking out the window seeing all that lightning and hearing all those loud booms, and my mom told me... "baby, don't worry, the clouds are just having a party. It's loud but nothing bad will happen to us."  I remember making a little tent with my sheets tucked into the dresser drawers and attached to the bed, and when thunderstorms would roll in, I'd invite my mom to come play with me and hide from the storm under my tent... all she ever wanted to do was protect me and console me.

It's so strange now to see her in a state where she is not able to offer what once came out so freely. Her demeanor has changed dramatically since I last saw her in June. That soft smile that once glowed across her face is only barely visible now. She's down to half my weight again. When I weighed 185, that was okay, she has always struggled to maintain a weight above 100lbs. But now, I weigh 140...and she weighs half...

The bit she told me that made me lose all capacity for holding back tears was when she described how much she appreciates sleep... she said when she closes her eyes and she falls asleep, it is the only time she feels no pain. In her dreams, which are vibrant, she is young, healthy, able to run, go outside, and she finds herself doing the things she once loved doing and I’m there with her sometimes too... It was at that moment, that I realized, this is really happening... my mom really isn't going to be here forever... one day, she's going to close her eyes, fall into a restful sleep, and she won't open them again... If I'm being absolutely raw and real with you right now, it is my greatest fear to lose my favorite person, my sweet mom, to know that I have to learn to accept that there will come a time whether I'm ready or not, when she won't physically be here… to look at my phone at 10:30pm and not see her nightly text to me… But this thing that she's living in now is her worst nightmare, and as I've spent the last 7 days with her, I'm coming to accept that she means it when she says, "this isn't going to be like this for much longer...something big is going to happen soon..."

God, I want so much for all of this to be some horrible nightmare that we all wake up from...  but the thing that is most amazing about my mom is that despite the fate she's been dealt, despite the fact that she fights to see another day, her soul and spirit are not crushed. She is so grateful for life, so accepting of this situation and entirely at peace with what lies ahead. I asked her how she can be so calm and peaceful, she said, "God is with me, He's taking care of me each and everyday and I know I'm in His hands, and I know He will take me to be with Him in Heaven." She has so much faith and trust in God and in Jesus. When I asked her how she can be so accepting and not bitter or angry, she said, "Why would I be angry at God? He made me and His energy is still inside me and He knows what is best for me. If it is His will, He will heal me. If it is not, either way, He will take this pain away from me when He is ready." It was then that I realized how wrong I'd been all of my life... I always thought that the greatest gift and life lesson my mom had to share with me was the love of art, of reading and of writing. Her greatest gift and life lesson to share with me is her heart full of faith, an ever present heart full of gratitude, of trust in God and the hope in the promise of salvation Jesus shared on the cross. This is the gift I will spend a lifetime learning to unravel, this is the lesson I am only beginning to understand by watching how she reacts to the reality of her own mortality. She feels closer to God than she ever felt before and she feels peace.

My mom truly is the most amazing person and she will remain so to me for the duration of my life. So, tomorrow, when I go to leave, I won't say “goodbye” to her... I'll say "see you later, Mom!" because one way or another, I will see her again.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read and share this tender moment with me. I apologize if I've bummed you out, I'm just trying to figure out how to cope with this and somehow, making these fears, feelings, and thoughts visible, is helpful in some way. Hearing shared similar experiences is also helpful. If you are willing, please, pray for me tomorrow as it will be the most difficult departure to date. I don't want to imagine that this could be one of the last times I hug both of my parents and that they're both standing on the steps waving and seeing me off.

My dad and I are hopeful she will make it to her 66th birthday on April 9th, but we are aware that she is hanging on day by day, clinging to some semblance of normalcy that is not likely to last much longer. Please, pray for my dad, he and my mom have been married for 39 years and this is incredibly difficult for him. Most of all, please, pray for my mom. This is by far the most difficult and painful reality she's ever found herself in and she just doesn't want to worry anyone. All we are praying for is relief from her pain and discomfort and God’s healing hands. As for me, I'll be driving replaying conversations and memories in my mind, feeling an immense appreciation for God having given me such an amazing mom who is still alive and that we still have some time left. My pillow will be waiting for me when I crawl back into my own bed, this box of Kleenex to carry me 700 miles home. Thank you again and God bless.

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I did make it home safely. It was the toughest drive home. The minutes, miles, and memories all passing me by in a blur. Overwhelming as it all is, I feel so grateful…for gracious family and friends, for my mom still being alive, and for time…time to learn the greatest lesson she has to share…to know that we are certainly not alone. God’s love and grace certainly exist.