I don't consider myself to be religious. I don't know what I believe in, although I do believe that spiritual connections exist.
The start of my own breast cancer experience is bracketed by my mother's death from breast cancer 20 years ago. Exactly 20 years ago.
I had a mammogram and ultrasound Dec 20. The radiologist looked at the lump and said - Fibroadenoma, probably benign, but to be sure we can biopsy. Or follow. I said, biopsy. Good thing I did. The next day, Marco and I found out that it was not benign, but rather poorly differentiated and thus malignant. This was Dec 21, and it was the day 20 years ago that we brought my mother home from the hospital, to die.
Someday I will write more about my mother's experience. For now - she continued on a steady decline and died on January 14, 1991. My sister, two aunts, hospice nurse and myself were all there. My father had just left for work. It was a bit past 10AM in the morning, a mild, sunny day. It was peaceful. As sad as it was, and while a part of me will always feel it was unfair that she died so young, there was something about it that seemed so natural.
On January 14, 2011, Marco and I were driving back from meeting my oncologist. He was very optimistic, I had a good prognosis, my scans were clear. We felt more hopeful than any time before Dec 21, when we first learned that the lump was cancer. At one point, we were driving down the A6, south of Bern, looking at the Alps - you can see the Jungfrau, Eiger, Moench if it's clear enough. It was a gorgeous afternoon. It's a spectacular view, if you've not seen it. The Alps here really remind me of quiet, grave, learned men and women, watching over us.
And at this one point, I just had this feeling - tingle, puff of air, whatever, and somehow my mother and I let go of each other. Not that we don't care for and watch out for each other, but rather, our paths won't be the same.
And when I checked the time it was a little after 4PM, Central European Time, 6 hours later than Eastern Standard Time - 10 AM in Pittsburgh.Maybe it's an angel, maybe the hand of some god, or maybe my subconscious rationalizing new information.
Whatever it was, it was a profound moment for me. The part of me that always has to make a joke wants to queue Twilight Zone music.....because it feels a little squirrly to be profound.
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Elaine, beautifully stated. I remember your wonderful mother. She was a beautiful woman. She was always gracious, intelligent and charming. The apple did not fall far. . .I wanted to let you know that I concur with your thought that those we have loved linger, but eventually choose to move on. I had a dream just a few months ago. Our dear friend Sue Harmon came to me, looking hale hearty, energetic and most of all healthy. She popped into my dream just to let me know that she was no longer in pain, and that she was moving on, and that it was all 'alright' with her. Sue asked me to pass the message on to her parents. I've yet to bring myself to make the call to them. Losing a daughter at age 51 to pancreatic cancer was not something that they had ever for moment considered. I've visited with them several times since her passing three years ago and that wound is still fresh. I wasn't surprised Sue stopped by in my dream. I was the last person to speak to her three years ago the day before she left us. I guess the phone line was still open between us. Blessings to you and M.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much for that. I was so sorry to learn about Sue. She was one of the sweetest, most kind people i've known. And I'm glad you had that connection with her. I'm sure you will pass on the message when you are ready.... These can be so difficult.
ReplyDeleteBest to you and yours....