beforethemourning-blog

[beforethemourning-blog]

intro 2/21/2019 2:19 am

I was in 8th grade when one of my friend’s dads died because of an inoperable, incurable brain tumor. They knew he was dying, they’d known for years. The knot of worry in my chest was untied when I heard that. People always say that- but they knew it was coming, she had been sick for a while. I believed it. I believed that it was better that way. Maybe that’s why when my grandma died of inoperable, incurable pancreatic cancer the year before, it hurt so deeply. She was diagnosis free only 6 months before the end of her life. I believed that the heads up softened the blow. 

And maybe it does. 

I don’t know yet.

Because my mom is still alive. 

She isn’t supposed to be, though. A year and a half ago, she got the same diagnosis that killed grandma in 6 months. Living on 1 year of borrowed time. Time borrowed from modern medicine and access to resources and health insurance. So, where does that leave me?

We know what to do when someone dies. We mourn. We grieve. We allow ourselves to feel that deep ache and cry and miss them terribly. Death is not confusing. It sucks, and its necessary. 

So what do we do while we are waiting for death? We are happy to hear good news, that the cancer is responding to chemotherapy. We cry at work when we remind ourselves that mom isn’t ever going to be able to hold my children. We call and visit more often and enjoy our time together. We practice telling people about her disease so that next time, we cry less. We wage a constant inner battle because we know death is coming some time. And not just in a way that death comes for everyone at some point. Mom is going to die of pancreatic cancer. Maybe tomorrow, but the doctor says she has 6 more years to live. Maybe in 6 years, but the first doctor said she should’ve died 1 year ago. 

I’m making this blog mostly for myself. The only way I can imagine navigating through this hell is my cementing my thoughts into words. If you feel like reading, I won’t stop you.