Sometimes I forget my mom has cancer. Or maybe it's just that I want to forget, so I allow myself for a moment to push it to the back of my mind. It's just such a strange feeling to be sitting there, talking to her like normal about the day or something funny one of the kids said, and then come to an internal realization that she has cancer. She doesn't look sick nor act sick. She seems okay. So how can she have something living inside of her and multiplying by the second (or, I guess we hope, dying by the second) that could kill her?
Today, my mother is in Birmingham for some blood work and to meet with her oncologist to go over the results of scans she had last week to track the success of the drugs she's been taking for several weeks now. I am hoping for good news. I am actually hoping for God news - maybe it will be gone completely or practically immeasurable. Maybe one day real soon I can look at my mother and actually say that she doesn't have cancer instead of having to remind myself that she does.
I guess I am feeling a little sentimental with Mother's Day approaching. I think of my mother now in terms of what I have done, would do, will continue to do for my own kids. I know and understand now exactly how she feels about me as her daughter - as the third child she carried in her womb, that she loved long before anyone could even tell I was in there, that she prayed for and cried for and laughed at and with. I know that I would have never been half the person I am today without her guidance and love over the years.
So here's to a great Mother's Day this weekend... and here's to many more.