D-day

A year ago yesterday my husband got his first promotion. He had a little pinning on ceremony and I was feeling very proud. I called my Dad to glow at him, and found him to be very quiet. Very strained. When I asked what was going on, he wouldn't tell me. And then he said he needed to talk to me later when Andy was there with me. I knew something terrible was going on.

That's when we found out Mom had lung cancer, and when my world turned upside down, and when I started to relearn everything that I thought I knew about living and loving and even being me.

The thing is... After the initial shock, I really thought that we'd have a long fight ahead of us. One with a lot more triumphs. One with more good days. I really believed that Mom would still be here today. I thought she might be very sick... but I thought she'd be here. I always believed she'd see the mark of one year out. My Mom was the most stubborn, fiesty woman I have ever known and I really thought her ability to fight would carry her far. But the beast was just too strong.

She's not here. She didn't have good days after that one. Her last good day before the day she entered heaven was last October.

I miss my Mom so badly tonight. I spent time today with some friends from high school, and I'd love to sit tonight and talk to her about that--about how we've all changed. A year ago I thought that I'd be able to do a thing like that. She's already missed Carolyn crawling, sitting up, pulling up, and cruising. She's not here to talk to when I miss Andy, or to discuss episodes of West Wing with, or to scream at the T.V. during a Steeler's game. I thought she'd still be doing all those things.

But I was wrong.

That makes me feel angry, and sad, and grieved, and defeated.

My Mom should be here. I should be planning for Thanksgiving with her. She should be spoiling Carolyn, giving people hell, laughing, playing trivial pursuit, going to the river boat, giving me advice (solicited or otherwise) about Mommying, and keeping Dad on his toes.

We've been robbed of so very much.

I HATE the beast, Lung Cancer.

I know there are folks in blogland reading this who themselves, are struggling with cancer. Don't let this post discourage you. Let it make you mad. Put on your boxing gloves and fight like Hell. Fight for good days, fight to live every moment, fight to make the number of those moments vast and expansive. Fight for hope. And know that I will be here fighting with you.

Cancer is a thief. A destroyer. An ugly, cruel entity.

We can't let it win.