My heart, mind, body & soul, out loud.

October 16, 2017

I have been struggling with what I wanted my first post to be about. First and foremost, I always want my writing to be meaningful to me, something I can be proud of. My second goal is to write something that can touch the minds and hearts of all of you, who have so graciously taken time from your day to read my thoughts.  

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and in honor of that I wanted to share some very personal moments from my life. I can only hope that this will speak to others who have a similar journey;

So here goes.

…Lately I have been feeling like my relationship with my Mother is flourishing, though she is no longer living. I always figured that when I got to this age, her absence would affect me more than it did in my adolescence, but I feel so much of her soul inside me. Being a wife and planning to be a mother in the future makes me feel incredibly close to her. I feel her presence within me and I have waited 12 years to feel this level of certainty. It gives me a boost of confidence and encourages me to stand with poise; Filling my heart with a warmth and reassurance that I have been deprived of. I have a strong sense that I am exactly where I need to be in my life; and I’ve never felt anything quite like it before.

My Mother was first diagnosed with breast cancer in 1999.  As a 9-year-old child, my parents always promised to remain completely honest with my brothers and me about what she was going through and what the possible future could be. They kept us informed through every appointment, every surgery and we openly and regularly discussed her illness among one another. This is something I have always been grateful to; and I feel helped mold me into who I am today. It made me feel like adult, like I was strong & mature enough to handle such devastating news. But the reality was that I wasn’t an adult; and when it came time for me to put pen to paper writing this post, I wanted to hear the specifics from the person who experienced my Mother’s cancer in a way I never could have; my Father.

A lump was first noticed by her. We went to the doctor, who felt the lump and said not to worry because it is not positive.  Upon our insistence, she reluctantly agreed to a biopsy.  This proved to be positive.  She had a lumpectomy, and upon examining the radius of surrounding tissue, they noticed malignant tissue remaining.  She then went through a second lumpectomy on Christmas Eve of 1999, only to have the same pathology result.  This triggered the mastectomy of one breast. This occurred on New Year’s Eve, 1999.  When they did the procedure, they removed 19 lymph nodes, of which 2 were malignant, which means that it was metastatic at that time, but was diagnosed as Stage 3. She experienced a continuous nagging, dry cough in Feb. of 2004.  In March of 2004 she was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer. The cancer had spread to her lungs, with tumors too numerous to count, to her bones (hip and pelvic bones), and her liver.  It spread to her brain by January 2005.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                        (Robert Luke)

I have always prided myself on being “good” at dealing with death. Whatever that means. My Mother died on Friday, March 11, 2005 at 1:56pm. I was a 14-year-old Freshman in High School. I remember sitting in Mr. Murdock’s Algebra class when the office called to inform him my Dad was here to pick me up. I don’t think my senses have ever been more heightened than that moment. Everything slowed down; I remember as I walked to the office in my cute dark blue jeans, white camisole under a cheap white zip up sweater, with white, red and green Diadora sneakers. The sun was sharp and I was sweating bullets. I thought to myself on what seemed like a 10-minute walk to the office, “My Mom just died. This is really happening.” I arrived at the school office, greeted by my Father and one of my brothers. The drive home was silent and heart wrenching. As we drove up to my home, the coroners were already there. As I entered, I turned left into my Father’s office, which had been transformed into my Mother’s bedroom since the stairs were no longer an option. An overwhelming feeling of sadness came over me as I saw her laying there. I have replayed this moment endlessly in my mind over the years. I don’t know if I could ever find the words to accurately convey the pain of that moment, but it will forever be stained in my mind.

On March 8, 2005, the Tuesday before her passing, I was excited to miss the first couple hours of school due to a dentist appointment. (Sometimes I feel guilty for using words such as excited in this context; as if excitement should be an obsolete emotion when living through this. I know that’s ridiculous, but whatever.)  I managed to separate my school/social life from my home life well, which I think was partially due to my age. Being a normal teenager, I wanted to be with my friends. So I always found something to look forward to in my day…something to be excited about. That didn’t change as my Mother’s cancer advanced. If anything, I spent most of my time out of the house. My parents did not want me to miss out on being a freshman in high school. 

Forgive the tangent.

Before leaving to the dentist, my Father quietly let me know that I needed to spend a few moments alone with my Mother before he took me to my appointment. I don’t remember much of the conversation but she told me she loved me and reassured me, as she had on many occasions in the weeks prior, that I was going to be fine and I will get through this. She consoled me through my grief before she was even gone. I was amazed.  Despite her inability to walk on her own and need for an oxygen tank to breathe, she remained a stellar mother;

Nothing short of a superwoman. 

I remember crying heavily as I tried to gather myself before my appointment. At that time, I was taking my digital camera with me to school and pulled it out to take a “selfie” of us. That was the last picture we took together and was the last time we spoke. She went into a coma later that afternoon. I’ve since lost the photo and kick myself every now and then for not cherishing it more.

Like any girl, I always wanted to be just like my Mother. Some of my happiest and clearest memories with her are on the floor of her closet & bathroom, going through her jewelry, trying on her clothes, sneaking some perfume and putting on her bold red lipstick.

That was bliss.

After her passing, I still spent hours in her closet trying on her clothing, marveled at her perfume collection, all while fantasizing her standing beside me. Everything she owned was mine now.

I wasn’t supposed to inherit these items so soon.

What does a 14-year-old need Chanel No.9 for?  But I cherished every drop until it was no more.

My Mother was always very close to God; She had a very personal relationship with him. She believed in energy, and the power of the mind. More than anything else, she believed in herself, and that she could accomplish anything – at her own pace without being overly influenced by outside sources. Much of her time alone was spent writing and interpreting her dreams, reading then taking notes on what she read, working on her book, meditating and doing her daily stretches.

She seemed so sure of herself, and I loved everything about her.

Amid this spiritual awakening I’ve had, I began to feel concerned with the future of my health. The BRCA 1 & BRCA 2 genes are associated with heightened cancer risk. On June 27th of this year I went to my Physician for genetic testing to determine if I carried the mutated BRCA 1 & BRCA 2 genes.

On August 7th, my results returned negative and I could not be more at peace.

I feel incredibly blessed to be insured, for without health insurance I would not have this opportunity. Being proactive about my genetic testing is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I wanted to share my story for every young woman who has lost a loved one to Breast Cancer. If you have the means to undergo genetic testing, I would highly advise it.  I chose to take this action rather than sitting on the sidelines allowing my anxiety to consume me. My results have provided me with peace of mind.

And that my friends, is irreplaceable.

Anticipating Autumn

September 2017