Today, as I spent Thanksgiving with my family, my mind has been frequently on the two missing from their specific place at the table. Ironically enough, they both passed away in the month of December. Mom died December 14th, 2000 and my Sister Wendy, passed on December 2nd, 2017. Both died of Cancer…. The bracelet that I wear every day says “Cancer Sucks”. I hope you don’t understand the deep meaning of those words, and I pray you never do.

In April 2000 Mom was diagnosed with Lung Cancer. It was her biggest fear, having the C-word. Those 8 months she lived after that, I thought was the hardest thing I ever had to endure. What was I thinking? Had I honestly forgotten the years of loss, heartache, abuse, poverty, my struggles too many to even imagine for most? I guess you only think of the thing you are in the midst of at the time.

Mom tried radiation and developed third-degree burns and couldn’t even eat. She always told me she didn’t want Chemo but actually tried it twice because of us, her girls. I worked there at the hospital, so during the day I’d go downstairs do my job, then Wendy and I stayed with her every night. I was often on call. When My beeper would go off I’d go to the ER or the ICU do my case and return to Mom’s room. Every morning at 4 am Wendy and I would come home to shower, go to work again, repeating this every day for Months.

One day after work I was presented with the option of Hospice. Little did I know at the moment, that years later, I would hear that option again for my Sister. It seemed it was decided one day and the arrangements had to be in place by the next day. I came home and single-handed carried my entire living room furniture to the roadside, hoping some deserving person would benefit from it. You see, the house that Wendy and I shared together, was very small, so there was no room for a hospital bed and all the accessories we needed to take care of Mom.

I’ll never forget that day I brought Mom to our house to die. She was looking at everything she could on that car ride home, taking it all in. When she told me that this would be her last car ride, her last time to ever be outside again, I could barely breathe myself, holding back all the emotions that I had become so good at. She was right about that, and I knew it too.

We hired someone to watch her during the day because we had to work. At night, Wendy and I took care of her and took turns sitting at her bedside. Neither of us ever went to our bedrooms to sleep, we were in this together. We did finally buy a futon so we could rest some.

One night it was my turn to sit at Mom’s bedside while Wendy was resting. Mom was more lucid that night. She looked at me asking this question, “Am I going to die”? With every bit of strength I could muster, I said “ Mom we are all going to die, but yes, you’re going to be the first “ She proceeded to tell me that she was afraid to leave Me and Wendy. That we didn’t have anyone to take care of us, unlike our other sister, that was married. Right there that night I promised Mom That Wendy and I would take care of each other. If she was tired, it was okay to let go that we would be okay. A few days later Mom died, I made it to her bedside a few minutes before she took her last breath.

I tried to live up to that promise, after all, I had often taken care of my sister since we were kids, I didn’t think this would be that much different! People don’t understand the guilt and failure I feel as it pertains to Wendy’s Cancer Diagnosis years later, because of that promise I made for my Mom, in the wee hours of the morning many years before. I didn’t want to do it again, it wasn’t fair, why did I have to watch, to make the decisions, to witness a person I love suffer so much? Then the whole process of Hospice again.

~Ginger~ 💜