there aren’t any more words.
6 weeks ago Mom started chemo again. about 8 weeks ago, we learned the cancer was back. i left work in tears and ran 63 laps around an indoor track. my legs refused to go further. usually my cadence is the lap number with each step. that day it was
Mom would not be proud of my language, but i’m out of words. we didn’t make it a year without cancer and it clawed its talons back into Mom.
i’ve been afraid to write it down. afraid to etch her reality into stone and it’s not fair. i can go about my day and think of her and pray for her, but i don’t deal with the nausea. i don’t deal with the bathroom race, and the exhaustion. i don’t deal with the million pound weight around my neck in the form of a plastic bulb of drugs.
all the feelings are the same. the ones i wrote about before. i have feeling fatigue. you might call it numbness, but it’s not that callus. it’s a thin veil pushing the feelings inside, down, out of reach. i coped with words last time, and now they’re failing me. i suppose that just leaves the f bomb.
the facts are simple: 6 rounds of chemo. dosage every other week. potential of radiation after chemo.
the reality is more complicated. nausea is a nice way to explain what mom experiences. diarrhea. vomiting. bloody noses.
my niece keeps her spirits up. she has the softest skin and the cutest eyebrows. she wrinkles her brow more often than she smiles, and i think she already has the world figured out. when she talks, she can explain it all to me. Mom sees that. i don’t think i’ve ever seen her smile as big as when that little girl is in her arms.
God’s perfect timing sent Sarabeth because chemo was coming.
Dad caught Mom singing to SB after a treatment. no energy, but her lungs still work, and facetime brought Mom’s strength to her.
Jordan got to visit. it was an off week, but still Mom is weak until about Wednesday or Thursday of the off weeks. he filled her water, got her blankets, helped her walk. he loved on her even though we both fail to process our Mama Bear in this state. we’re the ones that get taken care of and when the roles are reversed we stumble.
not a day goes by we don’t think of her. pray for her. wish to take this yoke from her. Mom’s playful spirit and desire to mother shines through even when she’s the one in need of mothering.
we’re halfway home, Mom. i miss You. i love You. we’ll be celebrating soon.