BoomerGirl.com

My Mother was diagnosed with lung cancer in October of 2003. She died after a nine month battle. I shall miss her for all of my remaining days. She was strong, she was upbeat, she was in every possible aspect the glue that held our family together.

When your mother is sick and you know you will lose her and there is confirmation of that fact with every minute you live in chemo visits, scans, blood tests, etc. ... you set yourself in this mindframe that this is your battle too. How do you not make this your main objective until you lose? I think the very worst part of the whole thing is that not only did she love life and she loved her family, the fact is she just wasn’t done. The day after she died I remember thinking, I am not done either. I was not done fighting and there was nothing left to fight for. I had spent the last nine months on the computer joining lung cancer forums, looking for the latest research, the latest clinical trials, anything that might keep my Mother here. My kids tell me now that I went at it with a vengeance. I didn’t even see it. All I knew was I was living a nightmare from the moment the emergency room doctor told us he was “pretty sure”.

Marie Coble Moyer

The doctor never gave us a stage. He gave us the phrase “palliative care” and I went home and researched it and my heart sank. I guess you don’t ask what you don’t want to know. Did he ever tell her a stage? I don’t know. The visits she had with him when we left the room I wonder about. Did he ask her if she wanted a pet scan? I don’t know but she never had one. She truly wanted to believe she would live through this. She did the chemo thing and when her body couldn’t take any more she asked her family if she could quit. That is how she was, thinking of her family first, always. We had Christmas and I knew in my heart to cherish every moment because this was her last. We celebrated Easter and her birthday in May and I knew these were last moments. And I cried.

Everyone tells you to say the things you want to say so there are no regrets. I just couldn’t keep my composure when she was giving me instructions of what to do when she was gone. I just couldn’t. It was confirmation that our time was about up. She grew up in the Depression years, providing her with wisdom, strong convictions and morals. I have great respect for this woman that lived with a huge amount of dignity. And how do you face losing your best friend?

I would give my right arm be given the chance to continue the fight. To sit down with her one more time. To see her face light up when we came to see her on a Saturday morning wearing that cute little pink cap I gave her to cover the place where her dark curly hair used to be.

On July 17, 2004 she passed away and I lost the person who understood me the most. I was still her little girl at 44.

Bless you, Mom.

Your daughter,

Gayle