{ Motherless Daughters } uniting those experiencing motherloss

Our Stories

Sharon's Story

Thank you so much for inviting me to share my story. Sometimes it is hard to put into words, and at other times, it seems there isn't enough time and space to say all that I would like to say about my mother. I had a story book childhood. My parents grew up in a very small town, my father was 4 years older than my mom. When he graduated high school, he moved to Dallas to go to college. At this time my mom had never dated anyone, she just knew that my dad was the man for her, but of course she was only 14 and everyone thought she was foolish and just had a crush that she would out grown. Two years after moving to Dallas, my dad could not stop thinking about his friend's little sister, so he dropped out of college, returned home and married that friend's little sister when she was only 16 and still in high school. They were married seven years before they had my brother, then I was born 4 years after my brother. My dad was a farmer/rancher and my mom was a housewife until I was 5, then she started work as the librarian at the public school. I was a daddy's girl while growing up, I loved my mom, but thought the sun rose and set on my daddy. As I became a young woman, I made many mistakes in my life, which kept my mom and I at odds alot. We argued, fussed and were barely able to stay in the room with one another. We loved each other, but didn't like each other very much. Then as I went through a divorce, with a daughter age 9 and twins (boy/girl) age 4, my mom and I became very close. I went through the divorce while working full time and going to school full time. My mom became my best friend and a second mother to my children. After nursing school, I worked two full time jobs for two years to repay school loans and get 'back on my feet'. I was working for a hospital on the Oncology floor, I loved my job and then suddenly, my world turned upside down. My mother was diagnosed with colon cancer and given about a year to live. Even being a nurse, working with cancer patients, the reality of this diagnosis would not sink in on me. I could not accept it. Not my mom, my best friend, the glue that held my life together. She was the rock of the entire family, all holidays and special events revolved around her making it special. The year prognosis the doctor gave us, was more hopeful than the reality. She started chemo, went through surgery for colostomy, and more chemo. She was first diagnosed in July, had the colostomy surgery in September, by Christmas that year the cancer had spread to the bone and the brain. Finally there was nothing else to be done, nothing to help but prayers. By the first of February, mother was bed riden. I took a leave of absence from work, my sister-in-law, also a nurse, took a leave of absence from her job so she and I could take turns of 12 hour shifts sitting with my mom at home. During the first two weeks of February, 1995, my mom taught me more about life and more about being a mother than anyone ever could have in my entire lifetime. I watched as my mom slowly became comatose. I remember those last few days, talking with her, reading to her, singing to her and listening to the few words she could still say. The brain tumors caused her speech to be jumbled, not always being able to say what she was thinking or wanting to say. With few to almost no words, my mother taught me how a mother will do everything in her power to protect her child, to prepare her child and to hold on past all hope to give her child what is needed. My mother knew I was not ready to let her go. My mother willed herself to stay in this world longer than her time to help me understand. My mother held on to life long enough so that I saw her pain, I felt her pain and I willingly fell to my knees and begged God to let her pass with piece and not have to suffer any longer. I then watched as my daddy, a man that appeared to be made of stone, and he crawled up on the bed beside my mom, took her in his arms and begged God to take him with her because he was nothing without her. I couldn't hold back the tears, so I took momma's hand told her I loved her, then told my parents I was going to pick up my kids and would be back in half an hour. My mom smiled, and she died 5 minutes after I left the house. She knew I could not bear to be there when she died. She waited until I left, because she knew I couldn't handle that moment. She protected me to the last instant she lived on this earth. Still, almost 10 years later, I'm still lost without her, just as my dad is as well. I treasure every memory I have of her, and always thought I'd hate the memories of her final days, but I treasure those days as much as all the other days. I treasure the lessons she taught me on dying. I still feel like an orphan, and I fear the day I have to let go of my dad also, but I know I can do so because of the lessons she taught me in living, loving and in dying. It seemed odd, more than coincidence that I received your email today of all days. When I signed online and opened your email today, I had just returned from a doctor visit myself. I too have cancer, it is now in my breast, kidneys and colon. I was wondering how to tell my children, daughter now 23, and twins 18. I am not afraid of dying, but I fear and hate the thought of leaving my children motherless. I do not wish for them to feel what I have felt since I lost my mom, but I read your letter, thought of my mom and I knew what and how I needed to say to my children. So through you inviting me to tell my story of my mom, it was a way to allow my mom to guide me once again in my life's struggles. Thank you for that.

Š Sharon

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