Remembering…

Two years ago today I was out skiing with my friends and my brother, and then that evening, at our home, my mother passed away while my family was surrounding her.

She was 59 years old and she had battled cancer for over 3 years.

I don’t want to talk about cancer here though… not today. Cancer is a greedy bitch. It doesn’t just affect the person it is invading… no, that is not enough for it… it also has to impact all of the surrounding loved ones, career, friends, family, hobbies, day to day life… you name it.

Cancer goes everywhere and impacts everything… it’s a dirty greedy bitch.

Today I want to remember my mother for who she was in her life before brain mets.

My mom loved life. She thought it was fun. She never stopped moving and she celebrated everything, no matter how mundane. She believed in setting the table with place mats and a centerpiece even for take out pizza. She was joyous.

She packed her life full to the brim from morning to night, calling those she loved every day to check in with her typical, “So what do you know?” greeting. I’m not sure if she knew how to start a car if she wasn’t dialing the phone at the same time.

She played cards and she liked to win, although she lost gracefully, she really would always prefer to kick some serious ass.

She filled her home with love and laughter and left the doors wide open so that friends were welcome to stop by freely, and they did.

My mother embodied compassion in a way so rarely seen in this self absorbed society. She loved and appreciated people.

She did not let anyone tell her ‘no’. She stood up for herself, believed in herself and had my dad trained to let her do what she wanted. She was a force to be reckoned with. She spoke with an underlying power, but also with grace and insight.

She was a best friend to many, and a good friend to many more. I envied her gift for building strong and lasting relationships.

She wanted to see it all and she was not afraid to be spontaneous in her life. Opportunities came up and she grabbed them… and usually convinced one other unsuspecting person to go with her along the way. She did not want to miss out on the adventure.

I read a quote about how in 60 years you will have few regrets about what you’ve done and many about what you did not…

my mother had very few regrets about what she did not do in her life, because she crammed her life full. She wore us all out at times.

She got that life was short and to be lived… and she lived it.

I wish that I had more means to have learned that lesson from her… the financial stress of wanting to do it all RIGHT NOW is something I have learned to live with. Oh mom, you have led me into a life of immediate gratification and a little bit of debt. …. thank you for that.

Thank you for all the mornings you took me to the ice rink at 5am. Thank you for cheering when I said I wanted to leave high school for college at 16. Thank you for lying for me when I wanted to be a camp counselor supporting disadvantaged youth when I was too young to apply.

Thank you for telling off that math teacher who accused me of cheating.. and thank you for believing me when I told you that I didn’t.

Thank you encouraging me to chase my dreams to Germany in college and thank you for raising me to have the inner self confidence to make major life choices, like buying my first home at age 22.

Thank you for all the times we snuck around dad’s back to do fun things he didn’t understand. Thank you for the schemes and the shenanigans. Thank you for loving me even when you didn’t always get me and supporting my interests even when they were not your own.

Thank you for loving me enough to send cards for no reason, and for taping articles about the harmful affects of smoking on my door.

Thank you for knowing I would love to see David Bowie in concert, even though you couldn’t identify any of his songs if you heard one.

Thank you for showing me what independence in a partnership could look like and how to have a mutually respectful marriage. Thank you for telling me at a a very young age that I don’t have to change my name or do what any man tells me to.

Thank you for exploring the world with me, including me and being my best friend.

Thank you for my strength. I learned that from watching you, and knowing that you and dad believed in me and supported me.

Thank you for giving me my relationship with dad. It is the only thing we gained from cancer.

On this day, as on every day, I miss you and am grateful for the time and relationship I had with you.

“The measure of life is not its duration, but its donation.”

Peter Marshall

And that is what I’m willing to say about that.

S.