 |
| Me and My Mommy Jan 2001 |
I was 14, my brother was 12. My Mom and Dad sat me down at the kitchen table and told me that Mom had to have a lumpectomy. I started to laugh. Silly doctors, always making big challenging names for medical stuff. But lumpectomy.... really?!?! Even I could figure that out.
My Dad told me not to laugh, and then my Mom, in her loving Mom way, told him that it was just how I coped with difficult situations. My giggles turned to tears as she went on to explain the worst case scenario.
A few days went by and our worst fears were confirmed.
Mom had Cancer.
Everyday I woke up wondering if today was the day my Mom was going to die. I tried hard to pretend it wasn't happening. But every night I went to sleep thankful that my Mom made it another day but terrified that she wasn't going to wake up to see the next day. In the 90's Cancer survivors weren't as public as they are today. My teenage brain pretty much thought that the moment you had cancer, even if you had treatments, you were still going to die.
My Mom is so loved by everyone, and everyone helped out one way or another. We were really blessed.
The teachers she worked with made lunches and dinners for us and filled our freezer with food so my Mom wouldn't have to cook. (and if you've ever tasted my Dad's cooking you'd understand why we didn't want him to cook either) Her closest friends and my grandparents took us to all of our extra curricular activities and my Dad was by her side every step of the way. He held her hand, and no matter how beat up from treatments she was, he would look deep into her eyes and tell her that she was beautiful.
I remember the day he helped her save her head. It's really strange when your Mom suddenly looks like an army recruit in a nightgown.
 |
| My Mommy and Me Spring 1998 |
My Mom was always optimistic, Always smiling, always laughing. She never missed a Ballet Recital or a Martial Arts Competition. She would simply shave her head, come up with a few bald lady jokes and sit front row to cheer us on.
She had her final chemotherapy treatment and went out to celebrate with her friends, my Dad was at work, and I was left at home to take care of my lil brother. I was told NOT TO DISTURB MOM. I was so happy. It was finally over. My mom had lived!!! Everything was going to go back to normal as soon as she finished radiation.
In the early evening the phone rang. It was the police. They asked to speak to my Mom. I said NO. She's out celebrating her final chemo treatment and I'm NOT to disturb her. I insisted that whatever it was they could just talk to me. Finally the officer gave in and told me that my Dad had been injured at work and was in the hospital. They were sending an officer to pick us up. Ok
, I guess I CAN disturb Mom after all.
So my mom's celebration was cut short by my phone call to the restaurant. Shortly afterwards a police officer picked her up from our house and I stayed home with my lil bro to wait and see IF Dad was going to come home.
It was a long long night.
Finally when I was convinced that my Mom was going to live - I suddenly didn't know if my Dad was going to. WTF!!! The universe was playing a cruel trick on us. At this point all I knew is that my Dad's body was found under his car and he was now in the hospital. They wouldn't tell me if he was conscious or even alive. I prepared myself to only see my Mom come home. I thought for sure I would never see my Dad again.
When Dad walked in the door (very slowly) with his uniform hanging to his body (the paramedics had cut it up the sides) it all felt like a really elaborate joke was finally over. You don't know the true definition of relief until you think your parents are as good as dead and then you see them walk through the door together. This was the greatest happiness I have ever known.
My parents never showed frustration with the crap life delt them. So neither did my lil bro and I. Mom and Dad were such great examples of courage and strength. They didn't let even the worst case scenarios destroy them. They taught me that you can't control what life throws at you but you can control how you respond.
I stopped fearing death after that. I'm pretty much convinced that my family is invincible and they're nothing we can't handle.
"Dear Mom,
I have yet to come across someone stronger, more courageous and more determined than you. Every day of my life you have been a perfect example of a loving wife, a understanding mother, and a loyal friend. You were able to raise two teenagers and beat cancer while Dad recovered from being smushed by a car, all without missing a beat. You inspire me everyday. And everyday I hope to become more like you.
I love you."
-Samantha Mack
Now I realise that not everyone has a family as awesome as mine. This is why I'm involved in Dancers 4 Cancer. We don't just donate money to a charity we split the funds with a dancer who is going through treatment or in this years case were sharing the donations with the children who's mother (our beloved costume lady) was taken by cancer not too long ago.
It's terrifying thinking that each day could very easily be the last time you'll see your loved one alive. Thanks to Dancers 4 Cancer we can help make this difficult time just a little bit easier. I know that just one event a year isn't making a huge dent in the fight for a cure but I also know that every little bit helps. I'm not a doctor or a scientist, but I am great and attracting attention and rallying the masses. So once a year we pack the club and myself, along with dozens of exotic dancers shake, shimmy and strut to raise thousands of dollars. Like all the amazing people who came together to help out my family 14 years ago, through Dancers 4 Cancer we can come together to help out one of our own.
I can't wait to grow up and become just like my mother
