Life Goes On?

It all started with a facebook message from a friend letting me know that another friend, Alicia, was losing her life to a serious battle with cancer. She has been given about two weeks to live. I say “friend” although I never really got to know her well. I admired her from afar, as she was always diligent, driven, kind and a friendly-smiling face.

With this news, so many feelings surfaced for me about her with regard to an email she sent me at the hardest time in my life. When I lost my Mom almost six years ago so many people tried to comfort me with words of encouragement: “She’s in a better place. She’s no longer in pain.” Those were just a couple of common phrases I was told. Honestly, though, I didn’t want to hear it. “I know you are trying to help me overcome the most horrendous experience in my life, but I don’t care where she’s at – since she’s not with me, it’s not the best place” – I just wanted to shout! I was so angry (and immensely hurt) and yet nobody seemed to want to let me feel those emotions.

I clearly remember the detective asking my family to come and sit down in my mother’s living room to announce that, “Your mother is deceased.” That was it. He got up and went to walk out the door. Moving on with his normal life. Probably ready to call his mother. I chased him out the door, wanting to violently hit him and let him know my pain, and I was held back by some family members. Sometimes I feel like I was held back that day and have continued to hold back my immense pain of losing the woman that was the dearest person in my life, although I always tend to fall back on knowing how truly blessed I am.

Back to Alicia. About two months after my mom’s death, I received an email from Alicia. Here’s what it said,

“Desiree --

Well, I'm sure you've gotten tons of these condolences
e-mails (and plenty that were a little more timely,
I'll bet ;) ), but I just wanted to tell you that I've
been thinking about you.

I'm sure Jeannette told you this. ... My mom died a
little more than two years ago, at the end of my
sophomore year at UNR (and right before finals, which
made it suck even more, if that's possible). It was a
much different situation from yours -- my mom had
cancer, and this was the second time she'd been sick,
and, according to a lot of people, she had been dying
for a long time. I, of course, was oblivious to this
(who thinks their mom will actually die?), so it was
still a shocker for me.

Anyway, I felt about a thousand different things, as
I'm sure you did, and I was angry and short with
everyone, and they did their best to understand why --
to understand that sometimes, when you feel so hurt,
you just have to take it out on some people. ;)

But I swear, the purpose of this e-mail wasn't to make
you listen to my story. :) I just wanted you to know
that, though the situations are different, I've lost
my mom, too, and that has a sting that a lot of people
don't understand -- unless it's happened to them. So
if you ever want to talk or bitch or just say, "Hey, I
have no idea why, but I just miss my mom today" or
"Why the hell did she die? Damn, I'm pissed," you can
e-mail me or give me a call.

Take care, Desiree. I'll be thinking of you.

Love,
Alicia

=====
"Carpe Diem, boys! Seize the day! Make your lives extraordinary!"
-- John Keating, "Dead Poets Society"

Reading her email still brings tears to my eyes that someone understands my pain because they experienced it and they have given me the green flag to get angry, be pissed and ask questions, like WHY?

Our life is a series of moments. I just read “Alicia’s Story” that ran in the San Francisco Chronicle and this was one of her biggest realizations. The beauty of her words sent tremors through my very soul. Even though I am not fighting cancer, at times, it has felt like I am fighting for my life, as sometimes the anger and the question, “Why?” are just too painful. I’m not crazy or suicidal; I simply sometimes struggle with seeing the point. The good news is I have God. My mother was my foundation. The person that always had the right answers. So driven. Persevering. Sometimes she was boldly honest. She drank a lot of coffee, enjoyed sunflower seeds and would pull her knees up into her pajamas when she sat on the couch on cold mornings. Nothing scared her. She chopped wood, got her nails done and blow dried her hair almost everyday. She received cards on Mother’s Day, and Father’s Day. She was Mom and Dad. She worked 12-hour days and came home with energy to take care of four children. She loved to walk for miles at a time and absolutely loved sun! She overcame abuse and practically raised herself. She attended our sporting events and always allowed us to sign-up. She would take us on trips and her beautiful melody would fill the air in the family van. She had high standards and wanted the best for her children.

What does this all mean? Why am I rambling about my mom? Because every moment in my life has changed due the moments surrounding my mother’s death. My mom didn’t just die. She went missing. For six days. The second day that she was gone, I woke up to the phone ringing. I just knew it was going to be good news – they found her! She’d gone shopping; decided to take a crazy trip; something! But, no. Instead it was someone inquiring about her disappearance. The moment I hung up the phone I knew Mom was gone (although I wouldn’t officially know for another four days). At that very moment I remember thinking, “How is the earth still moving? How are people going to work? How can Armando be thinking about breakfast? How was everyone else so normal?” That’s where the anger came. My whole life had just been crushed and people were telling me it was going to be okay, and moving on with their normal lives.

Now, Alicia is in the hospital, dying. Life is still moving. Students are still coming to school. I am still teaching. Kids are being shuffled to daycare, practice, etc. Families are dining at the dinner table. Life is normal for so many people. And, Alicia’s in the hospital. Her dad is losing his daughter, after already having lost her mother. Her story, the story I read and thousands of people read, is coming to an end and, yet, life is still moving on. I don’t understand. And, I’m angry. And sad. And, I just want to hug my Mom.