Writer on a Horse
And a Dog

The world looks better from the back of a horse and the roads of life are easier with a good dog beside you.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Rain Rain go away Come back another day

Don't you just hate getting up and it's raining... I mean a toad strangler down pour. Now if I could snuggle and go back to sleep, no problem but work awaits. Today is Wednesday and my two brothers and I eat breakfast with my Dad and Brenda, my stepmom, every Wednesday. It keeps us in touch with each other. We were close when my Mom was alive but when she died the family drifted apart... everyone busy and nobody saw it. I'm going to post a small part of the slice of life I wrote when my Mom was diagnose with cancer.


Malignant, was the word that changed my life. This death word nearly killed my family’s closeness by stealing the essence of our family.
I remember the day my mother’s hell began.
“The tumor is malignant,” the doctor said and my world crashed. I struggled to breathe as he talked treatment and time frame. My mother sat listening, her face showing no emotion. My eyes silently pleaded for her to fix this, she always fixed things that affected my brothers and me in a negative way.
I plunged deeper into my private hell when mother asked, “Then the tumor is inoperable.”
“That is correct,” the doctor answered. “An oat cell tumor only spreads if it’s disturbed.”
“But..,” I croaked then stopped and tried to clear the lump that choked me. “You have to give her some hope. We need hope. There has to be some kind of treatment that will help her.”
“I’m sorry, I wish I could say there was, but there isn’t. Radiation will be for pain control only, it’s not a cure.”
Mother reached for my hand and gave me a weak smile. Staring into my eyes, she asked, “When do I need to start the radiation?”
As soon as possible, tomorrow if we can set it up.”
At twenty-seven years old, I understood what the doctor words. My mother was dying. My mind understood this, but my heart could not. Mother gone, impossible!
Two years later standing at her graveside, unable to shed a single tear, I realized that my life changed from the moment I heard the word malignant. At first, I prayed for her to live, but as the cancer grew, the pain became unbearable. That’s when I prayed for her to die, so the pain would stop.

Word for Today: murky -- dark, obscure

My days were murky for the first year after my mother's death.


Irene Latham said...

Yes to the murky first year after a loved-one's death. Glad you wrote about it.

And I LOVE "toad strangling downpour" !! New one to me. :)

Lori W. said...

Murky is a perfect way to describe that feeling. I think it's good you wrote about that. Others can relate.

Also, I think your family has a wonderful Wednesday tradition, and I hope it was a rich time even w/the "toad strangling downpour". I agree w/Irene. I loved that line.

Amy Jane said...

I will never forget my dad telling me this story. He always says the same as you. He also prayed for he pain to stop, even if it ment dying. Although different, I also feel sad for Granny. I never got to know her as my grandmother. People always say how I take after her or after her side of the family. Daddy and Momma also have told me several times how Granny would've spoiled me when I was little. I have always wanted to know Granny. But don't worry, she is smiling down on us right now, watching her babies turn into successful adults with thriving families. :)

Gail said...

I think your Wednesday breakfasts are a wonderful and simple way to stay connected. Keep them up, even in the rain and the snow. Your mom would approve :-)