Diagnosis Anniversary

There will forever be so many significant dates in my life, especially pertaining to my mother. The day she died - Mar. 11. Her birthday - Jan. 23. My birthday - Oct. 17. And many other celebrations and holidays whose festivities will be blunted by the absence of my mom - Mother's Day, Thanksgiving, Hannukah...

I haven't heard a lot of people talk about their loved one's diagnosis date as being significant but it was for me (April 21, 2016). I sat there and tried to convince myself that it had actually been two years since she was diagnosed. How else could so much have transpired? Her moving in with me. Two courses of radiation. Three different kinds of chemo. Five hospitalizations and (seemingly) hundreds of doctor visits.

How was it possible that so many other people I knew or heard of had beaten cancer but it managed to mow my mother down in less than a year's time? My mom? Miss fix-it, freakishly strong at times, independent world traveler. I remember the doctor handing down the news. Of course we were scared. Of course we cried. But I actually felt a little silly for crying because of course she would come out on top of this like so many other people we knew. Even the people in my cancer caregivers support group whose loved ones were "terminal" were in their 2nd or 3rd years and longer after their diagnoses.

No one is probably ever emotionally prepared for the death of a loved one, but I wasn't even mentally prepared for her death. 

Anyway, I don't want to drag anyone down, but share my experience in case anyone else is going through the same thing. I am going to a bereavement support group and reading the book Motherless Daughters by Hope Edelman. I'm slogging through as well as can be expected I think. 

Thanks for reading and I wish you all peace during your difficult time. 

Comments

  • Noellesmom
    Noellesmom Member Posts: 1,859 Member
    edited April 2017 #2

    Some things get locked in our memories due to circumstances or events.

    May 18, 2010 - my birthday

    May 20, 2010 - I see a mass on my husband's neck

    May 22, 2010 - Identifying MRI is done

    May 25, 2010 - my brother passes from a month long coma caused by a major stroke

    May 28, 2010 - Jim gets his cancer diagnosis

    May 30, 2010 - my brother's funeral

    Worst two weeks of my life. So, I get it.  I used to love the month of May. Now I dread it.

    Hugs, Lonely. Believe me, you may be lonely but you are not alone. I miss my mom, too. Another date from the year from hell: Mama passed April 21, 2012.