For My Mom

Many of you know that my Mom recently had surgery to remove a nodule that showed up on her last scan weeks ago.  We now know that nodule was cancerous, and my fighter of a Mom will have to fight again - for the third time in two decades.

I am heartbroken for her.  And my own tears feel selfish.  This is not a battle I have had to fight, but in ways it feels like our family is being asked to "suit up" in our armor once again to stand behind my Mom and face this beast again.  We all thought she had fought and won over this thing for good.  The thought of watching her go through this again makes me wish I could do it for her.

One of the songs that has been playing in my mind this week is one I've heard on the radio a lot.

"Hey, Momma how do you get a red wine stain out of your favorite dress?

[How do you get] black mascara off a pillowcase?

[How do you] cure a one too many headache? ...

Momma, can you die from a broken heart?"

The song doesn't have much of anything to do with what's going on now.  It's mostly about a girl who has been left brokenhearted by a boy.  So she goes to her Mom, as she does with everything else.  It's that relationship between the mother and daughter that makes me think of the song now.  I have been lucky enough to have the kind of relationship where I can call on my Mom the same way.  I can ask her anything and call her anytime, as you would a close friend.  That's who she is to me - a best friend.

The Summer before I started high school, my Mom was diagnosed with cancer for the first time.  And it shook me in a way I can't put to words.  It was the first time I had to wonder, "will I always be able to call on my Mom?"  I knew she wouldn't live forever, but to my naive 8th grade self, this was a shaking thought I hadn't really had before.  I didn't know then that years down the road we would get this news again, and now once more.  Every time we have gotten this news, I go back to feeling like that 8th grade girl.  My need for my Mom hasn't changed all these years.  I've gained a couple of diplomas, some independence, a husband, and a sweet little boy who made me a Mom.  But I am still a child - her child.  And when I first realized there was a chance I might lose her before she was old and gray, it changed me.  That was the Summer I came to know Christ.  And I have to think that God knew I would need to be that vulnerable to finally come running to Him.  There were a lot of other things leading up to that Summer (a lifetime of seeds planted) that led me to accept Him as the one who saved me.  But certainly, my Mom's life and that unpleasant chapter for our family had a strong hand in it, too.

This time around is a little different.  Now, I'm a Mom myself.  And even though I'm not a child living under her roof anymore, I feel like I've grown somehow more dependent on her.  Maybe it's all of the times I've had to go to her lately for "mom" advice.  When I first heard the news, I felt like Job asking God all of the questions.  ("Why?  Why now? Why a third time - what did she not prove the first two times?")  I didn't want to feel that way, but for a while I did.  Then, I started realizing that all of the things I was upset about were the same reasons I should be celebrating.  As I was asking God "why a third time" I realized, there may have never been a third (or a second) time.  Because, God could have taken my Mom to be with him two decades ago when she fought this battle the first time.  Or He could have taken her at any point in time - and it didn't have to be because of cancer.  I thought about how God had answered so many of my prayers back in 2000.  How lucky I am that my Mom got to see me graduate high school and college; she and I got to travel to Paris together - twice!  We have shared a plane to California several Summers;  She watched me fall in love, helped me pick out my wedding dress, and was sitting in the front row when I married Blaine.  And probably the one I'm most thankful for: she was in the room when Joey came into the world and her youngest became a Mom.  When I realize how much I have to be thankful for, it brings an end to a lot of my "how could you, God?" questions.  Now, I'll be honest... I still selfishly want my Mom here for at least another two decades!  She has been a part of some beautiful milestones in my life, but there are more to be had.  I want her to see Joey start Kindergarten; to be there to cheer him on for any soccer games, school plays, baseball, basketball, or band competitions (whatever he takes an interest in!).  I want my Mom to be around for me to call on when I need advice with potty training, helping Joey in school, being able to mother him well during his teenage years, and a million other things that I know will come up when I will just want to talk to my Mom.  Because that's our relationship - any little thing, no matter how heavy or insignificant, even a joke or a silly gif.  I want to keep sharing all of those things with my Mom on this side of heaven.

I know there will come a day when we'll have to say goodbye.  And thank God for what Jesus did at the cross, because that goodbye won't be forever.  But I'm not done calling on you here, Mom.  I'm begging God to let you win this fight again so you can be here to take so many more of my questions and bad jokes.  I want more phone calls, shopping trips, more memorable vacations, more holidays and milestones with Joey; more time.  

I don't know a good way to end this, other than to say I'm proud to be your daughter, Mom.  I know the days and months ahead will only make me appreciate you more.  You have an army of prayer warriors behind you.  We want you well again!  And I'm thankful for every day you're here.  

I love you, Mom