Time keeps ticking

I was talking to my mom the other day about her treatment and it was just crushing. With her treatment wrapping up, it feels like the walls are caving in slowly. It's hard to have the mixture of feelings in my heart. One side feeling happy chemo is over and that my mom gets to feel semi-normal again; but on the other side, the agony realizing that she has just finished her best shot on getting better. Sure, there are other options, but honestly, she just finalized putting herself out there. She's vulnerable. And that terrifies me. I thought it was hard enough to wait for scans during treament, imagine what it will be like when the scans are every three months and all we are waiting for is the moment the cancer strikes back so we can hurry to hit it with a limp noodle, with second-best treament, with a hail-Mary. With hopes and prayers, begging and graveling. I hate that the options are minimal. The small optimism inside of my soul whispers, "At least you know going into it that this is how she'll go. You don't have to wonder what, just when." 

For those that don't know, my mom's mother, Martine, died quite suddenly at a young age (I believe she was early 60s). She went in for a "low-risk surgery" and died on the table. How aching, how miserable and sudden. At least I know that these hugs, these small whispered conversations late at night are the last ones. At least I get the chance to tell her everything I want to say, although we will never have enough time for all the nothing we need to do. That's why my heart lives in my throat these days, as if it's on a never-ending roller coaster ride. 

I remember getting that phone call telling me that my mom was in the hospital due to an allergic reaction she had in the hospital. It was that day that I realized one day the phone won't start with, "moms okay, but..." Instead it will be the exact opposite. "It's time."

I'm still praying that I'll be able to be beside her for her last moments on earth, whenever they may be. I'm still hoping she will be on this side of the veil to hug my children. That she'll get to witness my belly growing and my anticipation heighten. I'm praying that she will be there to witness David graduate and Matt get married. 

And then, painfully, I realize there are moments she will have to witness from a much different angle. My children getting married. When I become a grandmother. Watching my children grow up. Those are the quiet moments when my heart will be filled with so much joy and anguish. Those are the moments I'm desperate to rush into- to try and beat the ticking clock. 

Whatever time is left, my mother has assured me it will be enough. Heavenly Father has already filled us with faith and hope, I pray that I can trust Him when he calls time. I pray that He knows what I can handle and when it has been enough. I think of my mom and her struggle. Cancer is just hard. Throwing up, no energy, sleeping life's precious moments away, tingling legs and hands and arms, sensitivity to temperature. Imagine feeling so crappy and ice cream is no longer an option to soothe the aches. Sores in your mouth that won't go away. Teenager acne all over that aches aches aches. Hair in clumps clogging up the drain, funky eyelashes and eyebrows that don't quite look like yours anymore. Betrayal from your own body, fighting against the poison inside. Bless my mother.  Bless her worries and pains. Bless her patience and endurance. The fight is distant for me, but she has it screaming in her face daily. Never does she get a break. At least there are busy moments that steal my worry away and allow me to breathe. 

I'm trying to be strong. I'm trying to keep it all in perspective. But really, I'm just sad. I'm just at a loss for things to do. There is no helping, and feeling helpless is hard when you're a fixer. I've always been able to make her laugh and improve her day, and I'm sure to a point, we've all contributed to making chemotherapy less crappy.  But to be honest, there is no fixing this. It isn't going to get much better and all that's left is trying to make the best of the time left and learning to cope once the time is up. 

Rain Against Time

By Lisa Jordan

Rain keeps on falling from the sky, Clouds keep covering up the blue. 

Life feels like limbo- floating by;

The truth is killing you. 

Storms are a-blowin through and through

Lightening shatters cross the sky,

Not ready for the change coming soon

Not ready to say goodbye. 

I need you here, need you now. 

Wrap your arms around me, don't let go. 

I'm not okay, you're not okay; and that's okay. 

Clock keeps on ticking on the wall,

Seconds, to minutes, hours, days. 

The hole in my heart is growing thin,

I want you to stay. 

I need you here, need you now. 

Wrap your arms around me, don't let go. 

I'm not okay, you're not okay; and that's okay. 

Keep on movin, keep on going. 

Learn to be strong 

Keep on fighting for your life and,

Time will move along. 

Time is running faster than the water,

Cancer is spreading fast as fire. 

You'll leave us and then the fight is over

And I'll miss you. 

I need you here, need you now. 

Wrap your arms around me, don't let go. 

I need you here, need you now.

Wrap your arms around me, don't let go. 

I'm not okay, you're not okay; and that's okay. 

I appreciate the quiet moments where I can be sad and let the emotions all spill out. When I can "ugly cry" and it's okay. I know I'm not alone in my feelings and I know that some days will be better than others. I'm desperate for more time, more memories, more love. Please, don't leave soon, mom. I need you here. I need you now. Always.