Motherhood after breast cancer
A week ago today, I drove with my family from Chicago to Des Moines. As soon as we arrived, I went to see Mom in the hospital. As soon as I entered her room, she beamed at me. She said, “You look beautiful!”
I had puffy eyes from crying, all my makeup was worn away, I had just spent the whole day traveling, but yet Mom made me feel like I was the most wonderful daughter in the world.
Early this morning, a little after 3:00 a.m., I was shaken awake by my Dad. I knew that if he was there, waking me, that it had happened. Dad told me my mother had died just a few minutes before. Today is the day that my mother died.
In an odd way, I don’t want this day to end. I was just with my mother late last night. She was here, alive. Every day that passes sends me farther and farther away from the day that my mother was alive, the day when I could still kiss her and tell her that I love her.