I started writing this blog when my Mom was dying. I wrote so that my friends could know what was going on with my Mom because in the midst of everything, I was unwilling and unable to keep everybody updated. I also wanted to write so that my daughter can read back and know me. Actually KNOW me in case I pass away too soon. I yearned to have more from my Mom; to read her words and thoughts and feelings and be able to feel her again. I imagined that I would print this blog and tuck it away so that my daughter can have more of me after I am gone.
By sharing my journey through life on this blog, I hope my daughter will understand me better. My life. Our life. Struggles and all. I also hope that perhaps there is someone out there who needs to read my story through the grieving process. There is a certain fear of the voyeuristic part of sharing such personal information on the internet. I have reconciled with this aspect of the process. There is power in honesty and openness. This is my story and its not always pretty.

A week or so ago was the one year anniversary since the tragic brain biopsy that ultimately took her from us. Her body lasted another 6 months but that terrible biopsy that resulted in the emergency removal of a "large portion" of her frontal lobe took my MOM away from us. The same weekend of the anniversary, I received an email from a friend from high school who's wife has cancer. She received a very short prognosis with few options for treatment because her cancer spread so aggressively. While I worked through the pain of remembering how terrible that weekend was one year ago when we sat at UCLA learning that my Mom was never really going to come back, I was struck with a sense of gratitude for me, my baby and my husband's health. My sisters, nieces, and my Dad are all healthy. Things could always be worse. Always.
While I still miss my Mom with an intensity that rocks me to my core, takes my breath away, and brings me sobbing to my knees, I am fortunate that my little family is OK and thriving. I still tear up everyday and get that ball of anxiety and sadness in my tummy every single day when thinking about my Mom. I can't help but have tears build up in my eyes every time I bump into a picture of her, read anything about cancer, pain, loss, or Mothers, or think about how bad her physical body fought quitting this life. It tears me apart to imagine having a baby without my Mom there to support me when we make the decision to try for number two. It literally makes me sick to my stomach to think about my daughter not having the chance to ever know the most amazing person that I have ever known.
Lately, the most difficult aspect is the permanence. It is hard for me to reconcile with the fact that this is never going to end up with what I want- to talk to my Mom. She is never coming back. Ever. With all other aspects of life, when there is something wrong, I sit and try to think about how to fix it or make it better and determine how long it will take to get better. I have been struggling lately with trying to accept that it really is forever and it can't get better.
I guess, now at six months, I just actively try to turn it around and be thankful for everything that I have. I know my Mom would be proud of me. I know that she would want me to continue on with my life and not allow myself to wallow in the pain. She would expect me to wipe my tears and go back to mothering my daughter and taking care of my husband.
End note: As far as the grief process is concerned, 6 months does not feel much better than 5 months and 5 months did not feel much better than 4 months. For me there was a marked difference between month 3 and month 4.
Lately, the most difficult aspect is the permanence. It is hard for me to reconcile with the fact that this is never going to end up with what I want- to talk to my Mom. She is never coming back. Ever. With all other aspects of life, when there is something wrong, I sit and try to think about how to fix it or make it better and determine how long it will take to get better. I have been struggling lately with trying to accept that it really is forever and it can't get better.
I guess, now at six months, I just actively try to turn it around and be thankful for everything that I have. I know my Mom would be proud of me. I know that she would want me to continue on with my life and not allow myself to wallow in the pain. She would expect me to wipe my tears and go back to mothering my daughter and taking care of my husband.
End note: As far as the grief process is concerned, 6 months does not feel much better than 5 months and 5 months did not feel much better than 4 months. For me there was a marked difference between month 3 and month 4.
June 2010

















