Thirty years ago today, May 23rd, my mom died after a four month “battle” with what doctors said was liver cancer. Now that I know a little more (well, kind of…), I’m thinking it may have been pancreatic cancer. Still, 30 years ago today. So officially, I’ve been alive longer without my mom than with her. A strange truth.
Losing her did change my life. In many ways. The most obvious now is that one year after her death I went to nursing school and have been working as a nurse since 1986. That decision, going to nursing school, might be just the most positive reality that came out of my lowest moment. I have always been proud of being a nurse, never once thought “why did I do this?” And that’s all pretty much because of mom’s death. I’ve often said, “I certainly am happy to be a nurse, I just wish I didn’t have to lose my mom to get there.”
I’m changed in many other ways, too. Some positive, some not so. It was hard to lose my mom when I was 23 years old. Even now I feel like just a little piece of me is missing. Guess I’ve felt that way ever since she died.
Thirty years ago. Wow. That’s a really long time.
Miss you, Mom.