Damn! Not Another One!

My dad called me today to tell me his former fiancee', I wrote about her last year, has been diagnosed with bone cancer. Now J. and my dad were not able to make it as a couple, but I really loved her. I was disappointed when I learned they would not be getting married, and I missed her when she stopped coming by. She was very nurturing, and I needed that very much. Her husband died a year and a half ago from skin cancer, so we would have discussions whereupon I never felt weird discussing my mom's battle with cancer. Many people who have not been through cancer or a terminal illness with a loved one get very uncomfortable when you discuss it in front of them, so it was very refreshing to be able to discuss my mom's battle openly. Let me tell you that J. is only 48 years old. She has two daughters in their twenties who recently lost their father, and now it appears they will be losing their mother soon as well. I just don't understand.

Unfortunately, J. is not the only person in my life to be diagnosed with cancer this year. The woman who watched S. in the nursery at our church since he was a baby, was diagnosed in October with lung cancer. She never smoked. Her husband of 30 years did. So there, that is all the proof I need that second-hand smoke kills. I didn't know what had happened to V. until one Wednesday in October when I went to drop the tot off before I attended class. When I went to hand him to the assistant, now our wonderful babysitter, I saw V. sitting there with an oxygen tank. My mom's breast cancer metastatized to her lungs and she, too, had been placed on oxygen. That brought back memories I didn't want to face. I knew just by looking at her what was wrong, and that despite the church newsletter stating that they were in need of 'temporary assistance' in the nursery, that she was never coming back. A month ago she was able to come to Sunday service. Hubby asked me if that was her, and I realized it was. Now know that I am the talker of the our marital union, so it was up to me to say hello. I am fine with this, since nothing can make me uncomfortable anymore. I said hello and asked her how she was doing. She said okay, and that she was having another round of chemo. the next day, so she felt she better come to this service as the chemo. makes her weak. Then she ran her hands through her now mainly bald head, and joked about how she lost her hair. I said to her, "You know, my mom said that having less hair made getting ready in the morning faster." She laughed. She looked good as she sat there. It almost made me hopeful. However, as I saw her walk slowly out of the church, with her oxygen tank next to her, I knew. I knew she was going to die of lung cancer. Whether it was this month or, hopefully, next year, she was going to die from this dreadful disease that she did nothing to cause. It made me want to cry. Here was this woman who watched my son when I attended church during the time when my own mother was dying of cancer. And now she is dying from it too. I just don't understand.

One thing I did not go into when discussing hubby's work party was how I sat with a woman who had lost her father from cancer. I listened as she discussed his treatment. I listened as she discussed the last vacation they all took together. I listened as she remembered the chocolate chip cookie her own daughter had shared with him, her grandpa. I listened as she told me about all the things her daughter she says about this man. I thought to myself, my boys will not have any memories of my mom. They only know her as Grandma Debbie who, S. now points upward, lives in heaven with God. Damn. I just don't understand. Then I listened to this poor woman tell me about how in the middle of all of this, her mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. That her father, still weak, insisted on sleeping on the couch in her hospital room after her surgery. She told me about the awful chemo. her mother had to endure. I asked her if her mother had been given Taxol. She seemed surprised that I knew the toxin's name.

The thing is she knew she didn't have to hold anything back from me. I had been there, and nothing that she said was going to shock me. I wouldn' t pity her. I would be able to empathesize. We both wish we never had been through the hell that we had been through. Somehow, your whole life changes in an instant. Your youthful, 'nothing bad will ever happen to me or my family' changes to 'I can't take anymore God. Please help me.' You make bargains with God. I told God if he saved my mom I would adopt. I would chuck all of this infertility stuff. Please God, please leave me my mother. I need her. I still need her!!!' This woman was very close to her father, and felt the same way. And then as if God meant us to talk to one another that night, she mentioned her miscarriage, her quest for a second child that wasn't happening. I told her I knew; I understood as I also have gone through it all too. She didn't have to sugarcoat anything with me. I know the pain of death. I know the pain of infertility. I know things I wish that I didn't know. Frankly, I wish I didn't know any of it. I wish I would be able to wake up tomorrow and call my mom. To go to lunch with her. To ask her opinion. To roll my eyes and say,"I know", when she told me to understand that hubby has a job to do, and it's his JOB, don't complain. (My mom and dad had money issues early on in their marriage, so she always was worried about money.) To illustrate this point I must reveal to you that my mother had paid the April bills. She died in April. She paid those bills at the end of March knowing she was dying. She didn't want my father to have to worry about money. My mom had money set aside that my dad didn't know about. She wanted him to be able to grieve and not worry about how he would pay the bills. That was my mom. Worrying about others until the day she died. Literally.

I just don't understand why so many people I love have had to go through this. Young people. I have lost so many people that sometimes I fear getting close to someone because they may die. I do seem to flock to older individuals. I think because they can maybe offer me something my mother or grandmother could give me. I don't want material things. I want my family. I want my loved ones back. My grandmother, mom's mom, and I were extremely close. She died suddenly at the age of 57. I was 8. I can literally tell you every thing that happened that day prior to learning about her death. And then everything stopped. The good times ended. The naiveness that I had ended. I learned people die, and you don't know when it's going to happen. You can't depend on anything. I still feel the pain of her death, and this year will mark 25 years since she has been gone.

Books about losing your mother say that people/women divide their lives into two parts: Before their mom died and after she died. I don't do that. I define/divide my life into four parts: Before my grandmother died/after she died AND before my mother died/after my mother died.

My mother was 29 when her mother died, therefore it enabled me to ask her how the hell did she go on after her own mother died. She told me, "Your children get you through." Of course, she was right; she always was.

But I am going to be honest here. I am still pissed off that God took my grandmother and that he took my mother. I don't understand nor do I think I will EVER understand why he had to take such good people. I don't get it. I believe in God, and that faith is the only thing that has sustained me. However, I am angry. I am mad as hell. And everytime I hear or see that 3-day walk for breast cancer in which the one woman says she walks so no other children have to go through what hers have (as she hugs her two boys) I cry. I cry because I am scared to death that my children will be left without me. I will never admit that to anyone out loud, but I am. I am mad, I am lonely without my best girlfriend, I am sad. This shouldn't be real, but it is. Sure, I feel joy. Today I even said to myself that I was feeling happy today, but now that I am losing someone, two women in my life, I am feeling a bit raw and pardon my french, but a bit pissed off! I trust the Lord has a reason for everything He does, I just wish that I knew what that was. Maybe, though, it's best that I don't know. The only thing I do know for sure is that I want my mom back. I want her back right now!

***Edited to say: I just realized that today was my grandmother's birthday. I love you Grandma and I miss you so much! Please take care of my mom. And if you can, please tell God not to take anyone else in my family before he takes me. I don't want to be the one left behind ever again.