Found and Lost

You will have to forgive my raw emotion. I am crying as I am typing. I have been having a really tough time the last few days. Mama is doing pretty good. She finally started her 6th and final chemo treatment Monday and she will finish it Thursday. She is sleeping alot. When she is awake, though her mood is good and her spirit is strong, her eyes are weak and her body is frail. She makes herself get out every morning. She may only go to town or to the park with me and the kids, but she gets out. It is around midday everyday that she HAS to lay down. She usually stays there until the next day. Her appetite is brag-worthy. It is strange, though she is doing good by most any standards, I feel like things are really bad right now. I guess because she is doing good, I feel like she is well sometimes. Then she needs to lay down, or take her medicine, or Nori accidentally bumps her chemo port and I am reminded. These reminders are practically unbearable. On top of that, I am scared to death of this chemo stopping. Just when we get accustomed to something, it stops or changes. Now radiation is about to begin and bring with it it's own list of emotional and physical difficulties. I am scared beyond my previous comprehension. I feel very alone. I am petrified every day. When I wake up I am weighed down horribly with an excruciating knot in my stomach, until I call and ask my every morning question "How are you feeling today?". My whole life teeters on her answer. If she laughs about her late night eating and speaks of her plans for the day, I am fine. If she is hurting, or extra tired--I feel it too. And it doesn't go away, until she feels better. Today my daughter (3 this Saturday) says to me in a scolding tone "Mama, you just cry and cry. I gave you a hug at the donut shop AND at home, but you STILL cry. You're not going to be able to come to my birthday party". It's true. Random thoughts, songs on the radio, or the kids saying something about her triggers a breakdown every time. Neva is the worst. She says the cutest/saddest things. "Gammy needs to eat carrots and fruit to make her body and her hair grow". "Gammy's chemo is going to make her better and she will be able to pick me up again". When talking about her Papaw the Great going to Heaven, I had made the comment "it was his time". She held on to that statement mentally. The next time she saw mama, she said "Gammy, it's not your time to go to Heaven yet". Not missing a beat, mama replied "no baby, it's not". I can't hold back the tears. Her innocent comments are really endless. But it's not just that. Someone can just ask about her and I tear up. I cry everyday. I feel a stinging pain in my heart every minute. Dread. Fear. I am overwhelmed. I shamefully admit that I have recently spent most days allowing my fear for the worst overcome my hopes for the best.

Today we went and met mom at the clinic. We waited outside on the bench and surprised her when she walked out (kids are not allowed in there). When she walked out of those doors from having those toxins pumped into her body to fight off the enemy growing inside her, and the corners of her mouth turned up and formed the most beautiful smile you've ever seen, I knew it was going to be YET ANOTHER super emotional day. I watched my precious daughters run full speed and leap into her arms chanting happily "GAMMY!". My heart ached so horribly. She jerked them up (against my urging) and loved them so sweetly with hugs and kisses. How can someone, who has been dealt this difficult hand, be so wonderfully full of life? I am really struggling to hold it together everyday. Meanwhile, she effortlessly consoles us and reminds us that SHE IS going to beat this disease. One of our errands today was to return to the funeral home and pay. She has spent the last couple weeks debating between the two competing funeral homes in Laurel, and she finally made her decision. When we walked in, I became angry. When the secretary made nonchalant conversation about death I felt sick. I wanted to remind her of compassion. When the salesman walked in talking fast and looking for a payday, I wanted to turn around and leave. I rudely asked questions. I don't know why I felt or behaved this way. I am sure my mother was nothing short of embarrassed. But she let me ask away. I think she knew my interrogation was out of fear and dread and all around anger about the situation. "I want to know exactly what happens after we call from the hospital.." "What will you do?" "will you handle everything?" "will it be organized?" "will there be a hair and make-up consultation?" I demanded a full rundown. I have to admit, I was so caught up in the visual of what I was asking, I barely heard the answers. I couldn't help but think "the next time I am here, she won't be with me". Like a movie in my mind, I could see all of our family and friends walking around in there. They were dressed elegantly in black and mingling and making conversation. I was watching them from a chair beside the casket. I kept wishing I could be any one of them to escape my pain. Each face I envisioned I have seen laughing and carrying on with my mom in the past. My movie bounced from the factual past to the nightmare future unfolding in my mind. I just kept thinking "what happens when I leave here? What happens after the funeral? What happens when everyone leaves and I am left without her?" I bounced out of my vision madder than ever. I looked at that place and its employees as if they were the cancer taking my mom from me. I walked with my arms crossed as if I was a pouting 3 yr old. It wasn't until literally this moment typing and crying, that I realized how ridiculous I was being. Now, with my kids and husband fast asleep, my face stained with sadness and my shirt drenched with tears, I understand that I am giving the negativity in my life WAY too much attention. I have SO much positive to be thankful for, and I am, I promise I am. I understand the phrase "good days and bad days". I just never knew it applied to the families of patients too. I am  definitely having a few bad days.

The church I am attending has a prayer challenge going on right now. I have prayed day and night for a couple weeks now. I still don't understand if there is a proper format. Is there a way of speaking to God so uneducated, that he won't listen? I hope not. I talk on in hopes that "conversational style praying" is permitable. I ask for understanding. I pray for a cure. I ask Him to help me be better, at everything. I ask Him to comfort the families like mine. I thank Him for everything wonderful he has given me. I catch myself talking to God in the shower, in my car, when I lay down at night and randomly through the day. If you see me talking with no one around (I might actually be speaking to myself), but more than likely I am speaking with God. I really want to strengthen my relationship with Him. I want to kick this reoccurring lost feeling for good. When I look at her, I miss her healthy vibrant hue. I miss walking in David's and seeing her. I miss that comfortable feeling like everything is okay. I miss just knowing that she will be here. I get that you never really know, but I knew--ya know? Now I don't know anything. I just know that I am so sad. I miss my life. I don't want her to leave me. I am so lost.