Sometimes we just need our mommy....

A few weeks ago, right before my mom had her first chemotherapy treatment for ovarian cancer, she had a little (ok, massive) breakdown. I was in a total panic -- I was supposed to be strong for her, to be positive and tell her everything was going to be alright and we would be through this unpleasantness soon, and I for SURE wasn't supposed to cry with her. My heart broke as she clung to me, just as I have clung to her so many times throughout my life, and I held her just like she has held me. She was so scared. Her mother (my grandma) just passed away less than a year ago after dealing with cancer for several years. They were very close, they spoke all of the time and in her final months my mom took care of her. Despite their differences, their souls were the best of friends. As I held my scared and trembling mom, I realized that all she really wanted was to have her mom there to hold her and comfort her.

What I really wanted was to have my healthy mom to be there for me for a few minutes - I wanted to cling to her and tell her how scared I am about my sick mom and how I don't know how to handle all this and how much I need her and how much my son needs her. I wanted to be able to tell her all about my fears, just like I've done all my life - but they are too big this time. I don't think I can even let myself feel them all at once. I feel so much shame because I seem to focus on what all this means for me and my life (and my brother and sister and niece) instead of on what it means for her -- what it must be like to have your whole world turned upside down by this intruder in your body, what it must feel like to have pain that you know is coming from the disease, how hard it must be to go from being completely independent to almost completely dependent, how awful it must be to think about the possibility of not being here to watch your grandchildren grow up, how hard it must be to cling to your daughter when all you really want is just a few more minutes with your mommy.