It started on April 29 and it ended today, 4 years ago.

The wondering, the confusion, the anxiety of how bad this would be all ended at 3:50 am.

3:50am is the time my momma took her last breath, with us circled around her, trying to let her know that it was okay to go, all the while screaming inside not to leave us here without her.

6 weeks earlier, the phone call came around 4:00 on an amazingly sunny day. I had been down to see her in the hospital earlier that afternoon and it was the first time that I realized this must be something serious . She was crying and moaning in pain. Normally she would hide pain from us but this was becoming too much for her.
she was waiting for one more test, I think it was the bone scan. I told her I'd see her tomorrow and we left.

Fast-forward to 4:00....I answered the phone outside while sitting in my patio chair, watching the kids play in the yard. It was my step-dad and he said my mom wanted to talk to me (she was actually pissed at him for handing her the phone but I guess he didn't know how to deal with what he had to say to me).

She got on the phone and said" Hi honey, it's mom. It's cancer and they are sending me to Kelowna tonight, can you and the kids come down here before I go?"
I, of course, started to cry and immediately felt bad for doing so in front of her. I said I was sorry that I was crying and that we'd be right down.

I hung up the phone called hub in ( I had gone inside after hearing the word cancer), put my face in my hands and started sobbing, saying and knowing that my mom was going to die. That was the 2nd to last time I ever let myself feel that way for 6 weeks.

Oh the anxiety and fear I felt on the 20 minute car ride to the hospital. What would I say, how was I supposed to act now. The feeling of numbness had started and would last for years to come.

At the hospital we all pretended it was fine, that there was nothing to worry about it. It was just a little trip to Kelowna and she'd be back as soon as possible. We were all very good at deceiving ourselves, we liked to call it positive thinking, but in reality it was just denial.

Denial, another thing that would become second nature for me for 6 weeks until there was nothing left to deny.

We said goodbye, she told me not to cry and that she would talk to me soon. We left and took the kids to the carnival that night. This would become another pattern for me, push down my own feelings to make sure the people around me were okay. That how I was feeling would not affect them. They were my feelings which meant they should stay within me to cause no one else any disruption in there life. So even when I felt so raw inside and wanted to scream at the top of my lungs I held it in and was the same mom, friend, daughter to those around me.

A week later we went to see her. It was wonderful, even with her being in the hospital. We took her and my step-dad out for dinner for his birthday. We took her shopping, got her haircut, laughed, talked a little about the big elephant that sat between us all but not once did we cry. That's just something that wasn't done.

She came home the day after we did. It was the Mother's Day Weekend. She looked amazing. Healthy, fully of life. If it hadn't been for the oxygen tube in her nose you wouldn't have known she was sick. She lasted that way for a few weeks. We went shopping, out to lunch. We even started on my bridesmaid dresses.

You see, in between all this we had been planning my wedding. The invitations had been sent out 3 days before her diagnosis. I was getting married on July 27th and my mom and I were bonding with all the details. I never believed I would have to get married without my mom there. Of course what we believe in life doesn't always make it true.

But reality started to sink in, she was getting weaker. She could only do one chemo treatment as she ended up having some kind of infection. Within 2 weeks she had to be in a wheelchair at all times, she no longer had the strength to walk. The morphine was causing hallucinations and she became increasingly confused.

After one weekend of her not eating, hardly being awake, my step-father made the choice to have an ambulance pick her up to take her the hospital. Just so she could get hydrated again so she could still kick this. I told you we lived strongly in denial.

They didn't want me to call my brother, why worry him? She would be home again before we knew it. Denial is so strong when you want it to be.

That first night back in the hopsital she had to stay in ER as there were no beds available anywhere else. She was moved the next afternoon to a semi-private room. The following morning my stepdad was told to call her family for them to be here.

That 2nd phone call was the 2nd scariest one of my life. I truly believed she was going to die that day. I even phoned my dad to come see her. They had moved her once again, now to a private room, that used to be a storage closet. No window, right outside the nurses station. I stayed with her that night, on a fake leather, uncomfortable chair/bed all the while believing she would come home again. My brother and his girlfriend arrived the next day and they stayed that night with her.

A specialist appointment had been scheduled beforehand for the Friday and they were keeping that appointment. See the specialist can help. He can tell us what to do for her. This is not over.

The 2nd time I cried and let myself fully realize she was going to die was the moment after the specialist explained that her organs were shutting down, that there was nothing left to do. She had now been moved to Palliative care, a very private room with an adjoining room for us to stay in.

I sat in a chair across from her bed. She was asleep. As the reality sunk I bent over, trying to either push back the pain or make it explode out of me. I cried, I realized people were watching me and I ran for the bathroom. Like a child I sat on the cold floor sobbing, rocking myself back and forth, only wanting my mommy. I wanted her to hold me and make me feel better but she couldn't. She was lying in a hospital bed with tubes, IV 's, her legs,feet and hands swelling. Her best friend finally came in the bathroom, gave me a quick hug and promptly told me to get it together. That everyone's mom dies and that I had to be strong for my mom. That was another moment that set a pattern for me. Don't show your emotions as no one will be there to help you with them....