A Mother's Grief

When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer we weren't expecting it.  I had been told over and over I was too young, that the lump I had was a cyst, a benign tumor, hardened fat from an injury and finally cancer.  The day we drove to the doctor's office for the results of my biopsy was the day we were heading to camp for the summer.  For the last 8 years we have spent our summers working in Santa Barbara at Circle V Ranch Camp.  Not only do we get to impact the lives of thousands of kids each year, but you can truly and honestly feel the spirit of Christ everywhere you go there.

Our car was packed to the brim that day and I remember telling Brandon to just wait at home with the kids while I went to get the results.  We were confident this was nothing.  Why waste time finding someone to watch the kids.  No big deal.  Of course Brandon refused to leave my side.  I remember sitting waiting for my doctor and knowing something wasn't right when he walked in.  There were tears of course and shock, but there was something else there too.  Gratitude.  On the way home I remember turning to Brandon and telling him it's okay because I am strong.  I'm not scared, I can do this.  It could have been my child sick with cancer.  I couldn't take it if it were Ava or Leo.  I remember talking to the Lord that day in the car and telling him he chose the right person to fight this battle.  I gave him my gratitude that this wasn't my child suffering.  I could handle this trial, but I couldn't handle seeing either of my babies in pain.  That's the love of a mother. I know any mother reading this can understand.

In the midst of my prayers and my gratitude we pulled into my parents driveway.  They knew I would be getting my results and had been trying to call me for well over an hour.  But cancer isn't news you break over the phone.  In the midst of my praying and thanking the Lord, I forgot something.  I am my mother's daughter.  When I broke the news to her I'll never forget her look of grief.  She held my hand and said, "I ask God why my Kathy?  Why not me?".  My mom had been praying for the exact same thing as I had been praying for.  I failed to realize that while God had granted my prayers, hers were not.  This was my mother's worst nightmare, and while I felt relief, she felt undiluted pain and grief.

No matter what I have to go through, my mother will always suffer more than me.  I know this because I am a mother.  Nothing hurts more than when your children suffer.  I guess it's because we're helpless to make the pain and suffering go away.  The other day I asked Ava if she wanted to talk about anything.  Her feelings in particular.  I had been in the hospital for 3 days and she hadn't seen me.  If you've never met Ava, she's an incredibly special and intuitive child.  She's an amazing kid with personality for days!  We are open and honest with her about cancer and what it means.  She knows what chemo is, has seen all my scars, and liked to rub my head when I was bald.  When I asked her how she felt when I was in the hospital she said, "I was scared because I thought you weren't coming back".  I asked her, "Where did you think I was going?" she replied, "To heaven".  What do you say to that?  I can't tell her everything will be all right or that I'll be here a long time because the fact is, I have no idea.  What I did tell her was we come from a family of strong women and that she has that strength inside her too.  She is fierce and can overcome things that would destroy grown men.  We come from a line of women that stand and face difficulty head on and we don't back down.  I know now looking back at my childhood and my life that I got my strength from my mother.  She taught me I cannot be easily broken.  She taught me the true meaning of unconditional love.  These things I hope to teach my children, not just with words, but by example.

I'm so grateful my mother showed me her grief, that she didn't try to hide it or shield it from me.  Her grief taught me that pain is real and that no matter how consuming our grief may feel we have the strength and faith to rise above it.  I will never shield Ava from it either.  I hope she will see my bad days and know that I am a fighter and stronger than anything cancer can throw my way.  I want her to see and know the strength she will inherit, a gift from her mother.