Nancy, my mother's 15th anniversary of her death from a brain tumor is on the horizon, and I know how much it means to keep our beloved's memory alive. Those three words, 'We just lost her,' are so poignant and brought tears to my eyes. I was at Mom's bedside in hospice night and day, but the morning she died, I'd gone home to collect some fresh clothes for my dad. I missed the moment. My brother called with his own three words: 'Mum is gone.' Your post just brought all of that back to me now.
I didn't think it'd been that many years for you already, Marie. Of course, it doesn't really matter how much time passes, does it? We miss our loved ones for the rest of our lives.
I missed the moment, too. At times, I'm still envious that two of my siblings were present at that profound moment. You know what it's like to not be there. I didn't know this was the case for you, too.
Thank you for reading and sharing about your loss. I appreciate you. Hugs.
My mother died of ovarian cancer ... the quiet killer ... in 1976. Your sister was so kind to you with those four little words. WE just lost her. I'm going to assume you and your siblings got along fairly well and shared this whole loss as a unified family. Though I spent every afternoon with my mother at home and fixed dinner for my dad until she returned to the hospital to die, my sister called me THAT morning and said, "I just thought you'd like to know ...." Apparently, she thought my life as a single was filled with endless parties and devil-nay-care. She never saw me visiting my mom after I got off work in the early afternoons. She never knew how I tried to mend the schism between me and Mom over the years. So much of my grief was dealing with the anger that was never resolved. Now that they're both dead for many years, I can move on.
I'm sorry your mother died from ovarian cancer. Yes, I am fortunate that I get along with my siblings and we did, and still do, share this loss as a unified family. I'm sorry your situation was made more difficult due to the relationship strains with your mom and your sister. Dealing with anger mixed in with your grief had to be so hard. I'm glad you can now move on.
Thank you for sharing about these personal things. I appreciate you.
Thank you for this post honoring your mom and your advocacy for women and men with a breast cancer diagnosis, especially an MBC diagnosis. Sharing your mom's story -- and your excerpt from your powerful book is so very poignant -- is so important. Your online writings are vital to helping educate others about breast cancer in all stages and forms, and particularly MBC. And it's maddening that the Trump administration has cut funding for cancer research, etc. Such a terrible thing to do, but then again, our government doesn't have a heart.
Grieving never ends. I think our society is uncomfortable with grief. It's like "yes your loved one died, but you should get over it." One can never get over such a devastating loss. Grief never leaves, although as you pointed out, it can change over the years.
Regarding the pinking rah rah of breast cancer, this annoys me to no end. It does leave MBC patients and men out. Also, for someone like me, who now has PTSD from my breast cancer experience, it's offensive. There's collateral damage -- physical and mental.
Thank you for allowing us to witness your grief. This is an important essay.
Thank you for your kind words about my writing and for supporting my advocacy. I feel like I do have a unique vantage point due to my mother's metastatic breast cancer experience. My focus has always been more about advocating for those with MBC than my own experience. And yes, the Trump cuts to cancer research are maddening, for sure.
You're so right that grieving never ends, and I agree that society is uncomfortable with the topic in general. Thankfully, things are improving a bit, but clearly we have a long way to go.
I'm so sorry you've been dealing with PTSD all these years. That is awful collateral damage. And, I agree that the rah-rah narrative is offensive and just plain wrong.
Thank you for being here. I appreciate you, my friend.
Keep telling your mother's story for as long as you can. Losing my mom was also a piercing absence that never fully abated. When I read a mother story, I learn something else about my own mother/daughter relationship, and for a moment, I feel closer to my mom who died twenty years ago. And please keep telling your breast cancer story. You lay out information so carefully and thoughtfully and you will probably never know the ripple effects of how that helps those souls who are desperate for such information and don't now where to turn. You do good work in the world, Nancy and I am grateful to you. I deeply admire your advocacy for women, women's health care, mother stories, and the force of grief. Biggest of hugs.
You expressed perfectly why it is important to share our stories. We learn from one another. We draw strength from one another, and sharing connects us in ways we sometimes don't even realize.
Thank you for you kind words about the work I do. Those ripple effects are exactly what I hope for each time I write about difficult topics. We just never know who's out there searching for a bit of light. If I can be that light for someone, what more could I ask for?
Thank you for being here. I appreciate you, and I feel those hugs, too. Hugs back, my friend.
My mom's been gone for 24 years (stage 4 colon cancer at diagnosis). I mark the anniversary of her death every year with a Facebook post reminding everyone to get screened as appropriate. Thanks for keeping a spotlight on MBC.
I'm sorry about your mom dying from colon cancer. I imagine your grief has evolved over the years, too. You've chosen a wonderful, meaningful way to mark the anniversary of her death with your Facebook reminder.
I will be keeping a spotlight on MBC whenever and wherever I can for as long as I can. Thank you for helping to support this advocacy with your presence and comment, and thank you for sharing. I appreciate you.
Nancy, my mother's 15th anniversary of her death from a brain tumor is on the horizon, and I know how much it means to keep our beloved's memory alive. Those three words, 'We just lost her,' are so poignant and brought tears to my eyes. I was at Mom's bedside in hospice night and day, but the morning she died, I'd gone home to collect some fresh clothes for my dad. I missed the moment. My brother called with his own three words: 'Mum is gone.' Your post just brought all of that back to me now.
Hi Marie,
I didn't think it'd been that many years for you already, Marie. Of course, it doesn't really matter how much time passes, does it? We miss our loved ones for the rest of our lives.
I missed the moment, too. At times, I'm still envious that two of my siblings were present at that profound moment. You know what it's like to not be there. I didn't know this was the case for you, too.
Thank you for reading and sharing about your loss. I appreciate you. Hugs.
Hi Nancy, I can hardly believe it's been so long either - it doesn't feel like hardly any time has passed at all x
I think about her a lot and miss her!
Hi Lindsay,
I know you do. She'd be so proud of you. Thank you for reading and commenting. I appreciate you.
My mother died of ovarian cancer ... the quiet killer ... in 1976. Your sister was so kind to you with those four little words. WE just lost her. I'm going to assume you and your siblings got along fairly well and shared this whole loss as a unified family. Though I spent every afternoon with my mother at home and fixed dinner for my dad until she returned to the hospital to die, my sister called me THAT morning and said, "I just thought you'd like to know ...." Apparently, she thought my life as a single was filled with endless parties and devil-nay-care. She never saw me visiting my mom after I got off work in the early afternoons. She never knew how I tried to mend the schism between me and Mom over the years. So much of my grief was dealing with the anger that was never resolved. Now that they're both dead for many years, I can move on.
Hi Sue,
I'm sorry your mother died from ovarian cancer. Yes, I am fortunate that I get along with my siblings and we did, and still do, share this loss as a unified family. I'm sorry your situation was made more difficult due to the relationship strains with your mom and your sister. Dealing with anger mixed in with your grief had to be so hard. I'm glad you can now move on.
Thank you for sharing about these personal things. I appreciate you.
Hi Nancy,
Thank you for this post honoring your mom and your advocacy for women and men with a breast cancer diagnosis, especially an MBC diagnosis. Sharing your mom's story -- and your excerpt from your powerful book is so very poignant -- is so important. Your online writings are vital to helping educate others about breast cancer in all stages and forms, and particularly MBC. And it's maddening that the Trump administration has cut funding for cancer research, etc. Such a terrible thing to do, but then again, our government doesn't have a heart.
Grieving never ends. I think our society is uncomfortable with grief. It's like "yes your loved one died, but you should get over it." One can never get over such a devastating loss. Grief never leaves, although as you pointed out, it can change over the years.
Regarding the pinking rah rah of breast cancer, this annoys me to no end. It does leave MBC patients and men out. Also, for someone like me, who now has PTSD from my breast cancer experience, it's offensive. There's collateral damage -- physical and mental.
Thank you for allowing us to witness your grief. This is an important essay.
Hi Beth,
Thank you for your kind words about my writing and for supporting my advocacy. I feel like I do have a unique vantage point due to my mother's metastatic breast cancer experience. My focus has always been more about advocating for those with MBC than my own experience. And yes, the Trump cuts to cancer research are maddening, for sure.
You're so right that grieving never ends, and I agree that society is uncomfortable with the topic in general. Thankfully, things are improving a bit, but clearly we have a long way to go.
I'm so sorry you've been dealing with PTSD all these years. That is awful collateral damage. And, I agree that the rah-rah narrative is offensive and just plain wrong.
Thank you for being here. I appreciate you, my friend.
Keep telling your mother's story for as long as you can. Losing my mom was also a piercing absence that never fully abated. When I read a mother story, I learn something else about my own mother/daughter relationship, and for a moment, I feel closer to my mom who died twenty years ago. And please keep telling your breast cancer story. You lay out information so carefully and thoughtfully and you will probably never know the ripple effects of how that helps those souls who are desperate for such information and don't now where to turn. You do good work in the world, Nancy and I am grateful to you. I deeply admire your advocacy for women, women's health care, mother stories, and the force of grief. Biggest of hugs.
Hi Stephanie,
You expressed perfectly why it is important to share our stories. We learn from one another. We draw strength from one another, and sharing connects us in ways we sometimes don't even realize.
Thank you for you kind words about the work I do. Those ripple effects are exactly what I hope for each time I write about difficult topics. We just never know who's out there searching for a bit of light. If I can be that light for someone, what more could I ask for?
Thank you for being here. I appreciate you, and I feel those hugs, too. Hugs back, my friend.
My mom's been gone for 24 years (stage 4 colon cancer at diagnosis). I mark the anniversary of her death every year with a Facebook post reminding everyone to get screened as appropriate. Thanks for keeping a spotlight on MBC.
Hi Bonnie,
I'm sorry about your mom dying from colon cancer. I imagine your grief has evolved over the years, too. You've chosen a wonderful, meaningful way to mark the anniversary of her death with your Facebook reminder.
I will be keeping a spotlight on MBC whenever and wherever I can for as long as I can. Thank you for helping to support this advocacy with your presence and comment, and thank you for sharing. I appreciate you.