Dear Mom,

 You're probably in Spokane now. Or getting ready to be in Spokane soon. I hope your anxiety is low today and your drive over was smooth. I didn't get to tell you everything I wanted to, yesterday, when we talked on the phone. So here's what I wanted to say:
   * I love you and I still need you in my life. Who else could I call for advice for everything from cooking to being a parent?
   * I miss you. I hate that it's been so long since we've been able to see each other. I miss your hugs, your laugh, and the way you always compliment me and make me feel wonderful.
   * You may not like to hear it, nor believe it, but you are such a strong, beautiful woman. I've always been amazed by your beauty and strength. You've held us together through tough times and still managed to have a positive attitude, a smile on your face, and love to share.
   *  I am scared for you, Tony, and the rest of us. Mostly for you. I try hard not to be, but there are times when the fear creeps up.
   * We will have a get together in spring, will take a lot of pictures, have a lot of laughs, and give a lot of hugs.
   * I don't want to celebrate my birthday until I know you're going to be okay.
   * I don't want a present from you. I just want you.
   * One of my favorite memories of you is when you would dance with me.. Even when I was "too grown up" and you'd try to get me to dance with you and then we would laugh. I'll never be too grown to dance with you.
   * Whenever I hear Phoenix singing or humming to himself, I automatically think of you and smile. He, too, has his happy song that he sings/hums whenever he is happy.
   * I can't wait for you to see, hug, and play with Phoenix when we come visit. He takes my breath away at least once a day and I love him more and more as time goes by.
   * When I grow up, I want to be like you.

  I know things will go well, but I will pray and think about you from now until I hear everything went exceedingly well during surgery. Tell them how important you are and that they must do 10000% better than their best for you. Tell them to pamper you and take care of you so you can rest, heal, and begin to finally feel better.

  I love you. I love you. I love you a million times more. Thank you for being my mom and I look forward to talking to you soon. You are in my heart, my thoughts, and my prayers from now until forever. Don't worry about me. Focus on you and call me when you can.

  Love,
    Me

Random Thoughts

  In talking to my mom the other day, I was finally able to express a fear that I've had but haven't admitted to.. We were talking about spring and about the plan for the family down here to fly up there and spend time with Mom and Tony. I really, really wish I could fly up there now, tomorrow, or in December.. but reality is that she's going to be going through a rough time and having a four year old and her daughter around will not, exactly, make for relaxing conditions. I know my mom. And I know how stressed/depressed she would be if we were up there while she feels like crap and can't do all the things she would want to do. But, I guess, my fear is that things will be bad and she won't tell me she needs me before it's too late.. So i was finally able to tell her and get her to promise if she needs me then she will tell me... and I promise to be there immediately. I don't even mean if her health gets worse and she thinks her time is short.. I just mean if she's getting down and out, I will be there within a heartbeat to help in any way I can.

 I just feel so tied up and far away down here. I hate the distance and I hate the helplessness that comes with it. I think if I was single, without Phoenix, I would most likely drop my job, pack my bags, and move up to Idaho indefinitely. I would find a job there, willingly work minimum wage, if it meant I could be there with her and help out in whatever way I could. I admit, I'm tempted to do it anyway. To drop everything and move up there until this whole thing passes... But I have created my own little family and it's neither right nor fair to drop them so I can go be with my mother indefinitely. But my heart is up there and at least she knows I will be there the second she wants me there.

 I think all of us are still trying to come to grips with this new reality. There are days when it doesn't feel real. When I call her and she sounds energetic, happy, and like her old self... And then there are days when I call her and the pain has gotten to her. She sounds exhausted and talks about only having little bursts of energy before having to lie down on the couch and rest. If you know my mom, you will know that this is not like my mother. Her idea of relaxing while watching TV is to jump up the second a commercial comes on and clean something.. Heck, even watching a DVD, she would have you pause it every now and then while she went off to clean up the kitchen or the bathroom or the invisible dust on the dining room table. So to hear her admit to resting and to feeling as though her house is falling apart because she is so behind on her "chores"... really brings home how awful she feels some days..
 
  But we're still trying to focus on the positive. I know, on here, it may sound like all I have is sadness and negativity, but this is just where I come to dump all that out so that I can focus on positivity and good vibes. I can focus on what needs doing around my own house, on taking care of my family, and on being positive when I talk to my mom so that she doesn't have to add me to the list of things to worry about. Most days are easy.. and then there are days where I just randomly start crying and thinking this journey will be the hardest thing I've ever had to watch a family member endure. I just... don't know how to feel/deal with this some days. It's not MY body. It's not MY fight.. so how am I supposed to feel? Because feeling sad/angry/fearful feels so selfish to me. Almost as if I'm thinking "Yeah, you have cancer, but what about ME?". And the last thing I want is to have any selfishness through this. It's NOT about me. It's NOT about my fear/sadness/anger... it's all about my mom and how I can help her..

 This is all randomness today. Just like my thoughts lately. I think I said, last post, that her surgery is scheduled for 11-11-11. I'm going to choose that to be a good sign though it makes my birthday on 11-12-11 a little more depressing and the first birthday I really dread. She said the surgery will be about 4-5 hours long. They'll remove half her liver (did you know that they can take that much of the liver because, in time, it will grow back?), all of her gallbladder, and hopefully all of that damn tumor. She said she'll try to call me on my birthday, but I told her not to worry about it. I would rather her sleep and recover than worry about getting a hold of me so long as someone calls me after the surgery to tell me how everything went. I may not be able to be there, to hold her hand before and after surgery, but I'll be lighting at least one candle for her and praying over her before, during, and after her surgery. This year, for my birthday, I just want that tumor completely removed for my mom. That would be the best birthday present ever.

 (Sorry for the jumbled thoughts. Welcome to my brain.)

And now... The News

 My mother will have surgery November 11 to remove the tumor in her liver/bile duct. They have finally determined the only source of cancer is located in the bile duct. Unfortunately, it is an aggressive type of cancer and will need to be treated with chemotherapy and radiation after her surgeon clears her for treatment. It should take about 6 weeks for her to heal after her surgery and then, I'm assuming, is when they'll start chemo and radiation.

  I finally talked to my father today and told him the news. Even though they have been divorced since I was eleven, he took it kinda hard. Of course, it didn't help that after I told him my bad news, he had to tell me his bad news. My grandma, 92, is in the hospital and will be having surgery on Monday to fix her colon. She also has pretty serious Alzheimer's and is rather weak all ready. He doubts she'll make it out of surgery. Dad's pretty sad about it and is dealing with a lot of regret and guilt over not seeing them/ talking to them as much as he could have/should have. I feel my news about my mom didn't help and now worry about him a bit.

  This is where I wish I could clone myself and have the power to fly. I'd be in California with my grandma and grandpa... I'd be in Idaho with my mom.. I'd be in Mississippi with my dad to hang out and comfort him.. and I'd still be down here, taking care of Phoenix and whatnot. I just, at this time, feel emotionally drained. I was wrestling with my emotions when it came to my mom and now I'm wrestling with the emotions that come up when I think about my dad and my grandma. To say I'm dreading the next few weeks would be an understatement.. I'm really scared to see what the next few weeks/months bring us. I'm having a hard time grabbing onto the positive and carrying it in my heart and mind everyday.

  Truth is, I'm definitely more worried for my mother than I am about my grandma or my dad. My relationship with my mom is by far stronger than the ones I have with my grandma and dad... I Googled her type of cancer and it seems like the odds aren't really in her favor... But I keep having this scene/quote from Dumb and Dumber roll through my head. It's the scene where Jim Carrey's character is asking the female lead what his chances of being with her are... And she responds something like "One in a million"... Camera pans to his face, you expect him to be heartbroken, but he gets this huge shit-eating grin and says "Soooo, you're saying I have a chance?!?".... So yeah, if I read right, her chance isn't the best, but there's still a chance that one day, we'll be able to look back and talk about this journey and be thankful we all survived.. And she'll live for a very long time.. There's still a chance, hope, and a prayer.. And I have to remind myself that I need to hold onto that and carry it with me when the doubt and fear start to take over.

 I'm sad. I'm scared. I'm unsure of the future. I feel helpless. I feel angry. Angry at myself for feeling fear. Angry that I'm so far away and unable to be there to help and support. But there is hope. There is a chance.. and I have faith. I have faith I'll be what I need to be to help my family through the next few months. I have faith in my mom and her team of Dr.'s. And I have faith that this new path may be full of shadows and doubt, but there is light just around the corner.

The "C" Word

 It's a word that causes heart pounding fear. A word that ushers in "What if.." and "How will..." and many other, terrible emotions. It's a word you hear in passing and always think "But for the grace of God, go I". It's a word that we joke about, say everyone will experience it, but also say a quick prayer, cross our fingers that our loved ones and ourselves will never be visited by it.

Cancer

 It's a vile word. Fives letters, but a word so big, it could make your heart stop and your lungs struggle for air. We say we've come a long way, the medicines today beat cancer more than not, but still.. that word takes you to the dark corners of your mind and you contemplate life before and after it became such a scary, dreadful reality. You wonder if it will be beaten back, destroyed, and triumphed over... or if those five letters will destroy your heart, your life, and your world.

 It's something my family is facing as we find out my mom has a cancerous tumor in her liver. A three inch, fatty tumor that has been causing her pain and grief for a few months now. Not the silly gall bladder issues we thought she was experiencing.. It's this tumor in her liver, by a bile duct, causing all the drama. Not liver cancer. No. This tumor is a traveler and was just visiting, perhaps relocating, to the liver. That vile word lurks somewhere else. Colon? Thyroid? Bladder? So many places that word can strike and now we're left to deal with that word and the aftermath as more tests are done to determine its hiding place.

 What do we know so far? We know this tumor has to go. We know my mom will undergo more tests to define the type of monster we will fight. We know that she will still not feel well nor be able to drink the wine she loves or eat a lot of the food she enjoys. We know we will say that we will keep it light, keep it positive, and pray for the best outcome while we try to banish the "What if" thoughts from the dark corners of our minds. We will look at news stories of those who have passed from cancer and say "This will not be our story. We will it so and so it will be". And we will pray, hands clasped, on our knees that we will have a survivor's story to tell during holidays and vacations.

 We don't know the type or the future treatment. We don't know how long this will effect us. We don't know how this will effect my mom... How this will effect our family.

 Tonight I cry.. in fear, in sadness, in anger, in disbelief. Tonight I want nothing more than to fly up there, crawl into bed with her, and cry on her shoulder as she comforts me and I comfort her. I want to talk about it.. and I want to ignore it. I want to know that I'll have her for years and years to come because I don't want to be a daughter without her mother. I want comfort and I want to be alone.

 Tomorrow, I will wash my puffy eyes, give my son more hugs than normal, and focus on positive thinking and positive outcomes. I will lock away the fear and sadness.. and focus on sending prayers of health, energy, and love to my mother. When I start to feel doubt or fear or sadness I will close my eyes and envision my mom wrapped in healing, energy, and light as I repeat
   "I will wrap you in the yellow light of health and happiness.
    I will wrap you in the green light of energy and health.
    I will wrap you in the red light of love and warmth."
It may sound silly, but it's something I've done for years for myself, friends, and family who have been sick or in need.

  It can't hurt, eh?

Life in Lubbock

 Did you know Lubbock, TX is the birthplace of Buddy Holly? No? Now you know. We've been in Lubbock for about five days now. Our apartment still doesn't feel like "home" yet (Perhaps it has something to do with the furniture that came with it.) but it's getting there. The apartment is smaller than our last apartment, square foot wise, but the layout makes it feel larger and I love it!

 So far, I am really enjoying this area. I admit that on the drive up here (after we got off I20) I grew worried as I saw how brown this area was and little cacti growing along the highway. In a way, it reminded me of Carson City, NV but without the view of the mountains. I'm happy to report that, yes, it's a little browner than Louisiana and the trees aren't quite as big... but it's got a beauty all its own out here. Lubbock feels HUGE but I think it's about the size of Shreveport/Bossier. I want to say one reason Lubbock feels so big is because all the major roads are 6 lanes (3 lanes each way). It feels a little intimidating, at first, but I really enjoy the wide roads and the city's layout. All the numbered streets run east-west and the named streets north-south. And the best part about Lubbock?? Barely any humidity!! I can breathe without feeling smothered by the atmosphere!

  The neighborhoods we've driven by have all been cute, well-kept, and generally areas that we would be happy to call home. One real neat feature, to me, is that most every street has a little alley in the back where the garbage dumpsters (seems like most houses have little personal dumpsters instead of trash cans) are kept and where, in some neighborhoods, you access your garage. In fact, there's a cute little neighborhood right across the street from our apartment. Looks like we know where we'll be taking Phoenix for trick-or-treating this Halloween!!

 There are so many places I want to check out as well. An apple orchard where we can pick our own apples, go on hay rides, pick a pumpkin in fall, drink fresh pressed apple cider, and eat lunch (I plan for us to go in October), another pumpkin patch closer to town, a science museum like SciPort in Shreveport, wineries (though I'm not sure Phoenix could come along), a ranch to go horse back riding, a drive in movie theater, Texas Tech and one of their football games, and who knows what else? I think I drive Juan a little crazy by showing him all the stuff that interests me. I just feel so excited to explore this area and give Phoenix these experiences that we didn't really look for in Louisiana.

  And on a final note, we met some of Juan's co-workers today. Two married couples who were all very nice, friendly, easy to get along with, and they all really liked Phoenix. Both women are better in the kitchen than I am. One loves to cook and one loves to bake... so between the both of them, I should learn a lot! I was worried that they would be hard to get along with or kind of... snobby, but they were all just really easy going and friendly without being fake friendly. I look forward to developing a nice friendship with them. It's nice to not be the only ones in a new town.

  All in all, Lubbock seems to be turning into a nice adventure. Also, I admit to worrying about living in Lubbock after I googled a few places and looked around thanks to Google Earth. It was all flat, brown, and there was nothing but dirt and scrub bushes. But those pictures seem kind of dated because yes, there are spots that are flat and undeveloped, but so much of Lubbock is new construction and nice looking. Now let's see how the winter treats us!

Learning to Be Still

 There are days when I think "My baby isn't a baby anymore". And then there are days when he wakes up, cranky and grumpy from either too much or too little of a nap. Mad at the world, he lies on the couch and whines/yells about trivial things until I stop what I'm doing, sit down next to him and pull him on to my lap. Nowadays, it takes a little bit to re-arrange limbs and to fit him in my lap, but we cuddle up and he leans his head on my chest, his hand finds my hair, and we both breathe a deep sigh and sit in stillness for a while. I bend my head until my nose brushes his hair, take deep breaths (catching faint whiffs of baby shampoo and, sometimes, sweaty boy) and feel as though my world has stopped for just a few wonderful moments. I stop thinking about what I was doing, what needs doing, and what is not getting done.. and all I think is "This is exactly where I'm supposed to be". We can sit for five minutes or, sometimes, forty-five minutes but it doesn't matter. Each minute is precious and more than worthy of my time. He may not be a baby anymore, but to still be able to give him love and reassurance that all is right in his world.. Well, that's what I'm here for.

The Beginning

 Today is a lazy day. It's partially cloudy, too warm for my idea of spring, and I am still trying to find my motivation to achieve more than a few attempted math problems and a few loads of laundry folded. Allergies are wearing us down. Poor Phoenix has deep, dark circles under his eyes and is lacking in his normal energy. I have a headache I can't shake and the desire to crawl back into bed, pull the covers over my head, and dream the headache away.

  Normally, a first post is meant to inform the reader about the person writing this blog. Here are a few mundane things about me: I'm closer to thirty than I'm content with, a mom who is, at times, bewildered, bedazzled, and overwhelmed at motherhood and all that term encompasses, still trying to figure out life and what I want to be "when I grow up", sometimes amazed that people on the outside look at me and see an adult.. because some times I look in the mirror and feel an out-of-body experience as I stare at myself and realize I'm not that 17 yr old kid who thought she knew everything there was to know about everything, a student attempting college after a fantastic spiral of failure the first go-round, and still.. that daydreamer that can see the movies in the music and get carried away thinking of a wonderful idea for a story (Just not for very long, because that never ending mental list of "Things That Need to Be Done Next" always lurks in the corner of my brain..) and that's me.. or part of me. Or something like that at least.