I remember that I huddled close to the window watching as the city lights passed. Memories flickered in and out of my head like images from an old broken movie reel. I closed my eyes to shut out the images, but my thoughts lingered in the past. In my mind I saw my mom in the waiting room her eyes rimmed with tears. The words, “they found Cancer” echoed through my head. It’s strange because even now, I can remember everything about that moment from the look in my mom’s eyes, to the way my father held her hand in his, to the way my sister sat with her head on my mom’s shoulder. I even remember the song that was playing overhead in the waiting room. The moment my mother spoke those words all our lives changed.

I don’t know what happened from the time I walked in the door of the doctor’s office until the time I sat down. I do know that by the time I sat down, I had gone through a whirlwind of emotions. I couldn’t do anything but sit there and look down at my hands. It’s hard to put the feelings I felt that moment into words. I sat rubbing my hands together, feelings of helplessness and anger rushing through me. The word “cancer” was enough to make my blood run cold. I automatically associated the word with a death sentence. Although it was my mother that would have to fight this battle alone and on her terms - this would be a time where everything I believed would be challenged and I would travel a long road to understanding and coping with life, death, love, hope, fear and helplessness.

I’ve never been a religious person, but in the months that followed I would find myself in tears praying to God for some sort of miracle or at least for the strength to accept whatever was to come. There would also be days when I would find myself filled with anger. How, I wondered, could a God that was supposed to be so merciful and loving allow something like this to happen to anyone?

In times of trouble a lot of people turn to God for strength. As the days went by, I found myself turning further away from Him, while my mother drew closer to Him. For as long as I can remember my mom has believed in the power of prayer and never lost faith in God, even as she prepared to face her toughest battle. In less than two days after receiving the news, my mother was in surgery. I remember sitting in the waiting room with my head buried in my arms reflecting back on my life. When I was younger, my grandmother had shown me a picture of my mom when she was about eighteen years old. I don’t know why but for some reason the image of that picture came to mind. In the picture my mom was sitting on the hood of a powder blue mustang. She was wearing a yellow sundress and her feet were crossed at the ankles. My mom had a big smile on her face and seemed so full of energy and life. In another time of my life I would find comfort from the image on the photograph, but as I sat in the waiting room the image haunted me. It was the first of many images and memories that came flooding into my mind.

I remembered when I was a child she would zip up my coat and pull the cap over my head on cold winter days. She would always tell me, “Make sure you keep your cap and gloves on until you get inside the school building” I remember how every morning she would kiss me on the cheek, tell me that she loved me, and then watch as I walked to school. I would walk to the corner then turn and wave my gloved hand. My mother was always standing in the doorway waving back at me. Every morning I would walk around the corner, take the cap and gloves off, and shove them in my coat pocket, then continue walking to school.

I remembered how my mother had put her foot down when I was in junior high school and decided that I was a man and wasn’t going to go to school anymore. She told me that I would go to school every day until the I graduated from high school. My mother gave me two options; I could go to school on my own, or she could drag me to school every morning kicking an screaming. She told me that she would sit next to me in every single class if she had to. She said that she would do whatever it took for me to go to junior high school and then do it all again until I graduated from high school. The next morning I woke up early and happy to go to school.

I remembered how proud she had been when I graduated with honors from high school. She straightened my cap and told me to be sure I kept it on until after the ceremony. We both smiled and then she kissed me on the cheek and told me she was proud of me and that she loved me so much. I walked down the hallway and stopped before turning down the other hallway, then turned and waved. She was standing there waving back at me.

I closed my eyes as the thoughts and memories kept rushing through my mind. I felt as if the waiting room walls were closing in on me. I couldn’t breathe. I felt myself being suffocated. I had to get out before I died. I ran out of the hospital and found a quiet spot where I sat and cried like I never cried before. I thought about the role my mom had played in my life and how she made me into the person I was now. I remembered how she had been there through all the good and bad times in my life. I couldn’t imagine my life without her to share in the milestones that were yet to come.

To be continued…