Reminded of reality through nightmares

Today is one of those days where the loss of my mom has hit me like a ton of bricks.

Last night, I had some of the most morbid, vivid, and heart-breaking dreams. To say it was just a nightmare, would be a lie. The reality is, it happened to me. It happened to her.

There is never a good time for someone you love to tell you they have cancer. It rocks your world. The worst part is for me, is that it did rock my world, and it never stopped spinning. My mom told me she was sick and then she was gone. It was that fast. There was never any hope of having years of her in my future. No dreams of her being at my wedding, or holding her grandchildren. She will miss it all. Most of all, I will miss her. I do miss her.

This may be too much to share, but I look at this site, as an open journal to some of the experiences that come from death. Vulnerability is out...so, take it as it comes. It isn't easy, but it would be worse for me to keep it all in.

I woke myself up as I was dreaming. The dream went something like this: We all knew mom was sick, but she was missing. In my head, I knew she was dead. For some reason, I was removed from being with her the past week and didn't know the things that had happened. Mostly, what I remember is that I went to her bedroom and sat on her bed. I had been going through jewelry and found some crosses. When Mom was sick, she held a cross her friend had given her for comfort. She would would grip it so tightly, even as she slept. Anyway, I went to her bed to look for it because I wanted to have it to remind myself of how much she needed God, and how much I needed her memory. This part of the nightmare is true. However, I felt around for the cross in her sheets and came across something hard (the cross was made of wood) and kept feeling around and knew it was not her cross. It was her arm: her very frail dead arm. Her dead body was in the bed. Immediately, I kept trying to wake up, until finally, I opened my eyes.

I know that is so morbid to share. But the reality for me is, I saw some really haunting things. I saw my mom's body be carried out of my house I grew up in, about 30 minutes after she passed. My mom was hauntingly thin. There was a lot of memory in that nightmare.

I have seen things between my mom and dad's tragedies that many may never see. Some see worse. My hope is that I can be a listening ear or will be able to relate to someone with similar experiences. It is difficult to go through life as a 25 year old, with no one around me to relate to. I know my case is rare in America. I know a couple friends who have lost a parent, but not two. However, I know they are out there. I hope I can reach someone and let them know- I understand the grief and way your world has been changed forever. Sometimes, that is all I need to hear....that someone else gets it. It's hard and it isn't something you can pretend didn't happen. Sometimes, it will get the best of you. You just have to keep going and focus on the things that are great in your life. Believe me, you have things that are.

Promised Hope: Restoration

I don't know why God allows more pain that I can take sometimes. I wrestle with the same questions we all do: Why did a child die? Handicaps? Mental Illness?Why do some have so much and others have so little? Why are people starving? Why is there cancer? Heart disease? Why does God allow all of this?

A friend of shared this thought: If God didn't allow all these things to happen, then there would be no true love in this world. We wouldn't choose to love him. We would be robots that were made to love him and that would not benefit God, our Creator.

He longs for true love, just like the rest of us. He wants us to choose Him. If that is not a relational God, I don't know what is.

We live in a fallen world.

God allows the choices to be made; the sin to happen. No matter how much I prayed for Mom to be healed, she was not healed. I ask you- how/why not? I believed in my prayer, like the farmers were told to believe in the rain for their crops. When things kept progressing and my mom's cancer was taking her life, I lost hope in my prayers. Sometimes, I wondered/wonder: do my prayers really matter? If they did, then why are there many unanswered? Well, the cliche answer is, "God has a plan for you, much greater than your own".

Let me tell you- I did not have a plan for myself. However, I did not imagine a plan on being a twenty-something year old orphan. I did not plan on going to stranger's houses for dinners or holidays, just so I wouldn't be alone in my grief.

I have hope in two things: 1. HEAVEN 2. Restoration of my soul.

Heaven seems far away, when I allow myself to let it be. I have to discipline myself to remember how close to has seemed in my life at various points and CLING to those tastes.

Today, I watched one of the NOOMA films by Rob Bell, titled "Matthew". I deemed it appropriate for my life because of the summary. I will share the line that got me to purchase it: :"What might help us, however, is to understand how Jesus dealt with this kind of loss".

Relationships are the key to moving forward. Even though, I don't know Rob Bell, it certainly was nice to have someone who understood the depth of loss, speaking truth and hope into my life.

This changed my day and hopefully, my future:

"Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter,

you will restore my life again;
from the depths of the earth
you will again bring me up"

-Psalm 71

OH- H-o-i-l-d-a-y-s!

The only thing that really sums up the holidays for me is memories:

The memory of time with family

The memory of Home Alone (think of the mom embracing him at the end)

The smell of pine

The malls

The Christmas Story marathons

Christmas Eve Church and tears of missing the ones we have lost.

Christmas lights

Grandma's

My Uncle's

My dad in a santa hat passing out presents.

Gingerbread cookies. We liked the dough better than the baked cookies.

Mom in a holiday outfit with bright red lipstick

Dad in a sweater. The smell of my dad's leather coat

I think of white candles lit at church

Lots of cookies. The heat blowing on my face

The chills of the winter morning

Red, green, gold, silver, white...and more red.

There are many more things I could add to the list (I am sure you have your own!), but this year those are just memories. There isn't anything to revisit in the flesh. I will have to begin a new tradition. I won't even be in the house I have been in for the past 20 years. I'll let you know what happens.

These Hard Times

"These Hard Times"

By: NEEDTOBREATHE

Give me something brighter

Give me something I can see

Give me something vicious

Give me something I can be

Give me all the love and peace

To end these wars

Give me something sacred

Something worth fighting for

It's clear enough to me

The ugliness I see

Is evidence of who I need

Give me an answer

Give me the way out

Give me the faith

To believe in these hard times

Give me the answer

Give me the way out

Give me the faith

To believe in these hard times

Give me motivation

Give me all my heart's desires

Show me something gorgeous

Show me 'til my eyes get tired

Give me all the drums and

Show me how to play them loud

Show me how to move

When I can't feel that you're around

It's clear enough to me

The ugliness I see

Is evidence of who I need

Give me the answer

Give me the way out

Give me the faith

To believe in these hard times

Give me the answer

Give me the way out

Give me the faith

To believe in these hard times

We hide like thieves in shadows

Scared of the sun

'Cause we know the light will find us

Us and all we've done

Give me an answer

Give me a way out

Give me the faith

To believe in these hard times

Give me the answer

Give me the way out

Give me the faith

To believe in these hard times

Give me the faith to believe in these hard times

She was not ready

I keep thinking how my mom was not ready to die. We felt there were many memories to come. Especially, she did not want to leave her two children. She fought for eight months to stay with us. Eight months is a long time for a Pancreatic Cancer patient. She did everything she could to be with my brother and me, until it was no longer in her power.

I can remember learning that Mom was given a short matter of time to live: 2-6 months. Hospice was ordered and a week later she died.

In that last week, I knew she only had a matter of days left with us on earth. After she got the news of hospice, she shut down. Can you blame her? If I was told that there was no longer hope for my health and the my life was ending, I would want it to end as fast as possible. However, I was not the one carrying that burden- it was a sick mother with two kids she did not want to abandon.

Not only was she fearful of death, she was in tremendous pain. I can't imagine how much she must have prayed to live and how much she prayed to die simultaneously.

Vividly, I remember sitting in Mom's room avoiding the topic of her death sentence. She was trying to watch American Idol, but would fall asleep every few seconds. Ginny, a close family friend and I knew she was not doing well. Mom never would miss a second of American Idol and now, she was sleeping through her favorite show.

As she lifted her eyelids, she gazed over at me with precious, loving eyes. Supernaturally, at that very moment, I gained the courage to ask her where she wanted her funeral, how she wanted to be buried, etc.

Mom was so calm and peaceful. We had a wonderful conversation about something that was a complete nightmare, but was now our reality-Worse than a nightmare.

That was the last coherent conversation I had with my mother. After that American Idol episode and our funeral discussion, she checked out. Whether, the cancer got to her brain or the malnourishment overtook her, we do not know. The last week was more than any of us could bear and I pray that no one else has to see what this cancer does to the mind and body. AND what death does to the rest of us. Until you experience death closely, your life remains with a missing piece. We all have to experience it throughout our existence. Some in ways more pleasant than others, but no matter what the circumstance of death, it will never leave you the same.

I pray for all those walking in the valleys tonight...

We need hope!

As I spend most of my time these days fighting Pancreatic Cancer for others, I can get hopeless. I am human. It is like anything else, it is easy to feel like you are working so hard for no results. I know that is not entirely true, but as I meet with different people everyday and study this cancer, it can really be depressing. That is an understatement at best.

Pancreatic Cancer has a 95% mortality rate. Do you want to hear you have it? Do you want to hear your mom/wife/dad/brother/sister/husband etc has it? I am pretty sure you are thinking: "No", following with a knot in your stomach.

Not only do almost all die from this cancer, the battle is gruesome. Yet, only 2% (In 2009 only 2% of the National Cancer Institute's budget of 5 BILLION dollar budget was spent on pancreatic cancer) is given to Pancreatic Cancer research. How does this make sense? It doesn't. It makes me LIVID. Anyone who has experienced this disease, or that has a "walk a mile is someone else's shoes" mentality gets that this is absolutely NOT right.

The correlations are unfair. They are limiting the cancer because no one talks about it. No one wants to hear the statistics. Well, if those who have died from this cancer were here today, trust me, you'd be hearing about it: Just like we hear about breast cancer and the horrific fight through chemo. Not only do Pancreatic Cancer patients go through all of that, they also die. They fight and have no results. I am generalizing here, because again, the percentage is 95%.

PLEASE- I AM BEGGING- be aware that this cancer NEEDS help. We need hope. Pancreatic Cancer needs research funding.

Trust me, I do not want to think about this cancer either. I saw my precious mother die in front of my eyes because of it, but we have to do something.

Message from Mom

I wish I spoke to Mom more. Please don't be freaked out. I don't mean that she's a ghost lurking around my house. Simply, I wish I would express my feelings to her more, like I would if she was listening. She was the best listener.

I believe my mom is in Heaven. No doubt about it. Today I was searching through a box of memories and ran across this note/poem:

Tears filled my eyes, as I read her hand-written note. It was like she just gave it to me after missing her for so long. What would it be like to be loved like that again? A mother's love is one uniquely beautiful gift.

I have no memory of when she wrote this for me, but it doesn't matter. This note makes me realize that though we are apart, she still has all that love for me she did when she was here. No matter how old I become, this poem will always be special. To my mom, I was all of those things and most of my life that was the most important thing. Now, that she is gone, I have had to make other things important, but the void will always exist. I will never be the same. Yes, I am healing/grieving, but I am changed, my life has changed.

I'll cherish all the love I had from my parents for as long as I did. Without it now, life is much different and for awhile, much harder.