Mom To Cancer: A Short Story

With all that had went on four or so years ago I never thought I would see my seventeenth birthday, but here I am good as new. December 9, 1979. Today is not only my birthday but also the anniversary of my mom passing… everyone always says things about my mom on this day when really all I wanna hear is a “Hey Olivia, Happy birthday” or maybe even “ hope you have a good day.” But no all I hear is “ I’m sorry to hear about your mom.” Like maybe they should get a clue! It was four years ago i'm over it or at least as over it as I could be. Sometimes I lay under the stars on this night and just think how my life would be if she never died or how it would be like if no one even knew who I was? Well a girl can only dream,

My grandmother, who is the mother of my mom, passed away due to heart failure at the age of 87. Since I was 6 or 7 she had been living in our house. The reason for that was, my grandfather, that I was named after passed away a year before I was born, so she was alone, and she was starting to get old. Since she lived with us for so many years, she had been a very important figure in my life. I can honestly say that she was like a 3rd parent for me, and losing her, made me fell horrible and helpless. I witnessed how real death is because of her passing. Combined with puberty, my grief caused me to become depressed for a long time. As I’m looking back it sounds really extreme, but there were some days that I did not even leave the bed thinking that there was no point to our existence. Thanks to some psychological counselling however, I was able to overcome that mental

Everything is perfectly fine, everything is great, then one day it all comes crashing down and shattered pieces are left. My life would never be the same but I guess change is for the best and it forced me to become the person I am today. It’s rough to be the oldest child, especially when your mom is diagnosed with stage 4 cancer and you have 3 younger sisters that look to you for comfort when their mom can’t be there. When the cancer is spread throughout your moms body doctors can’t just get rid of it no matter how badly you wish they could. Rounds of chemotherapy only slow it down, yet it’s still there a lurking monster waiting to reappear at any given moment. Nothing can even begin to describe the fear I felt, and still have to deal

My aunt whom just so happened to be one of my role models passed away. I was devastated. Not only was I confused, but I was lost as well. A woman I looked up to was gone forever. I missed a few days of school and starting falling behind on work. It took me awhile to process my aunt's’ death. I finally realized that I have to move on. I knew that she would not approve of me being sad. I started remembering all of the positive memories my aunt left behind. I gained a tremendous amount of knowledge from her. Until this day, I carry what she taught me everywhere I go. I strive harder to make her

I remember everything as if it were yesterday. The shock, the sadness, the pain, and the sickness she had to suffer. I remember sitting beside her, holding her hand as she had IV’s put into her arms. I remember the conversations we had; she’d explain to me how she just wanted to go outside again; she’d be enthusiastic for the day she got out of the hospital; we made plans for when she beat cancer. Two years have gone by so fast, and there hasn’t been a day I haven’t thought about her.

“Cancer,” is a word that punctures the heart, chills the bones, and boggles the mind. People Like That Are the Only People Here,” by Lorrie Moore is a heart-wrenching short story depicting the emotional struggles and hardships of a mother who must grapple the fact that her baby has cancer. Moore’s use of fanciful, dark paradoxes and metaphors, a whimsical and haunting tone, and a unique symbolism immerses readers into the ghastly environment of observing the impending death that waits before a loved one, conveying the notion that when one is in danger of losing their loved one, they must enter the fantasy realm to maintain their sanity.

Although her death was a tragedy, it made me realize that this is the only life I will ever have, and I need to embrace every aspect of it and not take one millisecond of it for

She was my dad’s mom, and we used to call her Bebe Hajji as a sign of respect for a elders who has completed a pilgrimage to Mecca. Bebe Hajji passed away from gallbladder cancer, and it was a very surreal time in not only my life, but my family’s as well. I don’t actually remember that much about her before she was admitted to the hospital, only when she was. I remember what she looked like, I remember what her lap felt like when she’d hold me, but I do not remember her voice. When she was in the hospital I never quite grasped what was going on, I knew she was dying, but i dont think i ever knew what death was. After her funeral I was sad, but i kept waitin for the other shoe o drop. I didn't know how to grieve, I was nine, I went back to school and i didn't cry when i told other people what happened, and i didn't cry at her memorial. As i've gotten older, it's stuck with me more and more. When I was in middle school i felt exponential guilt, about my lack of tears when i was younger. I felt like I hadn't lover her enough and as a result been unable to grieve. As I’ve gotten older I’ve realized people deal with death differently, and to be fair, I was nine.

The time she came home from Arizona, is the time I realized – my mom was sick, like really sick. She went from my happy, energetic mom, to someone so skinny she didn't have the energy to get out of bed some days. My state of denial started to weaken and weaken. What happens at this point? What do I think? What do I do? Letting go of the fact that my mom isn't going to get better was the hardest part. The mom that I love and cherish, the mom that has raised me to be the woman I am today, the mom that taught me right from wrong, the mom that loved me isn't going to be here anymore? I don't think so...at least, I didn't want to think so. But that's it, I had to. All the time I had to think, because what else are you supposed to do? My mom was dying and I couldn't do anything about

On January 22, 2016 my mom , Tara Nicole Coughlin passed away in Ormond Beach Florida. My mom was 34 when she passed away. It was a lot to handle. It felt sorta like I had lost the other part of me, the part that I thought I would never loose, the part that I thought would always be with me . It had felt like just yesterday I was on the phone with her and she was telling me the jobs she was going to apply for.

In 2012 my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, for the following year and a half I watched my mother undergo multiple surgeries, daily radiation, and a variety of other intensive treatments. Throughout the entire process I watched my mother physically and mentally deteriorate. At the time my knowledge of the disease was minimal and not only was I fearful of my mothers future, but I was also unaware of the physiological functions that would overcome my mothers body eternally. Following a year and a half of agonizing and aggressive treatments my family received the news that my mother was officially in complete remission. Throughout my mothers battle with breast cancer my family and I met countless individuals who were

She had had her surgeries, making me feel helpless I couldn´t do anything. The fall months had came and this it when it hit me harder. She had begun to lose her hair and become weak from the intenseness of the chemotherapy. As a fifteen year old sophomore, it´s hard to overcome this negativity and adversity. Seeing someone you love and especially someone who has been there your whole life go through this kind of pain is not a sight you want to see; this makes you want to shut down, not do well in school, sports, and your soical life. All you want to do is make your loved one better and when you can´t it can be very defeating. In the months following my mom had always reasured me, seeing the women I look up to most fight this made me want to fight adversity just as hard. It gave me hope to see my mom in the stands during those cold football games, seeing her cheer me on even though it may have hurt. Then it gave me hope to see my mom there when I had won indoor state in track, breaking records and making my name, in the spring months. It gave me hope when when my mom had finished her chemotherapy and radiation and started to regrow her hair. It gave me such reassurance and a more positive attitude that even though she may not feel one-hundred percent she still acted like she did to support her kids and show the most unconditional love. She´s

It was early one summer afternoon, shortly after lunchtime, when I heard my mom scramble towards the door. There was little noise, besides her loud stomps and faint cries through the drywall. The wind whistled faintly through my slightly open windows. Suddenly, the air conditioning kicked in startling me. It sounded as if it was a faint boat in the distance. I could make out the sound of the air conditioning through my vents. My brother’s television powered on, as well as my dad’s. They whispered silently through the insulation. Eventually, it all turned off and once again there was my mom’s loud stomps and faint cries.

Every morning I still wake up thinking that she is there drinking her tea in her room , watching tv. Then suddenly the truth comes rushing up to me and I realize that it is just a dream hanging around me still, and a cold despair fall upon me. I feel empty inside. My mother’s death was a really sobering experience I’ve passed through. It was the most devastating loss in my life.

My life seemed normal until my mother died. Before this happen, I was happy to spend time with my mother daily. Every day I went to work and came back home on my lunch break to eat lunch with my mother. I loved my mother because was my best friend. I could talk to her about anything and she would listen to me. She was a sweet and loving mother and I always enjoyed having lunch with her. My co-workers would get upset with me because I never stayed and ate lunch with them.