RIP Andrea....

A few days ago, my friend Melissa sent me a link to this blog that was being written by a woman with breast cancer. Not just any kind of breast cancer, but a specific kind called Inflammatory Breast Cancer which if you're going to get breast cancer, is the type of breast cancer you don't want as it's often aggressive, lethal and incurable. I didn't go to the blog immediately, but hung on to the link for a day or so...and finally went to visit. It is one of the most honest, straight from the heart blogs that i've read so far. And of course, it's one of the most heartbreaking. Andrea is married and has 6 children and the youngest one doesn't look much older than my Emma.

I guess i had other reasons for going to her blog. I wanted answers. While my Mom had 'cancer of an unknown primary', it was later classified as colon caner. My Mom didn't have breast cancer, but she did have cancer. So, what i wanted to know, was how Andrea felt. Was she scared? Was she angry? Would she talk about what chemotherapy was really like? Was she sad? Would she talk about her love for her children? Would she talk about regrets of the things that she didn't do or did do? These were all of the things that i wanted to know about my Mother; but they were questions that were never asked or answered. I hoped by visiting Andrea's site, i would get a small peek of how maybe my Mom felt while she was dying of cancer.

Of course, you can't transfer one person's feelings to another. My Mom didn't want to talk about her cancer. Ever. I remember the Hospice counselor asking her at one time if she was okay and how she was handling the cancer. Her response? "That's life; that's the way it goes". I once asked her if she was scared. Her answer? "Of what?" Communication truly wasn't her strongest virtues. The only comment that she made to me was that she "should have divorced my Dad and gone back to her country where she could have peace and be happy." Their marriage wasn't a solid one, but i think that my Mom truly loved my Dad even if he was the way he was. So, even though i spent the last five months of her life with her, i didn't know any of the answers to the questions i so wanted to know even though i sat with her many hours, often just watching her sleep or watching the cooking channel. She mostly seemed to want to be left alone...on the night before she died, i remember praying for God to please end this, to stop her pain and that if it meant taking her from me, then fine, so be it.

She died the next morning.

My Dad came to tell me at 7:30am. I instantly went to her room and crawled onto the bed to be with her. She was with me when i came into the world, the least i could do was be there with her when she left. I sat with her, stroking her hair, looking at her...realizing that my life would never be the same. She wouldn't get to meet my daughter who we were going to adopt; she wouldn't get to see me be a Mom; she wouldn't get to play with my daughter nor spend holiday with my family. I had finally gotten my life together, and she wouldn't physically be here to see me finally be a wife and a mother to a wonderful man. Now, a year a few months later, my heart still aches for my Mother and for me...my heart will never be the same. It's as if a piece of me died and went with her while a part of her stays with me.

Andrea passed away on July 5. Her last post was one that she had written to be posted when she passed away. Melissa told me that she was thinking about posting Andrea's last post on her blog~since mine is a private blog, i can do the same. :) I always want to remember her post as it truly tells what is important and what is not. Here is her post, taken from her blog:

My last blog
Saturday, July 5th, 2008


If you are reading this, it means I have passed. I decided to put some final thoughts together in the hope that it will be of comfort to my friends and family. But also to those of you I never met but who felt a connection to me through this blog.

Blog. I hate that word. It is so silly and trivial. I thought of this as an online journal. One designed to keep my loved ones aware of what was happening to me. I wrote as honestly as I was able. I have looked at many older entries and realized that my feelings about death, dying, and cancer changed as I grew more sick. While I never feared death I often feared treatment.

Cancer treatment is hard. Really hard. The chemo, scans, medications…it is physically daunting. I was willing to subject myself to it all to have even a little more time with my husband,children,and loved ones. It was worth it. I would say that I packed a lot of living into that year while I was dying. I was still me. I was still engaged with my friends. I still was able to love and be here for all of them when they needed me. I still changed diapers and played games. Kelly and I fought like a married couple and loved like one too.

I learned a lot over the year that I battled this dreaded disease. I learned that it is not in our best interest to hold out expectations to God. He is not Santa Clause. He does what is right and good. This was my path. My journey in this world was difficult and painful but important in my spiritual growth. I learned that we have to be happy despite our circumstances. We can’t say "I will be happy when…....." No, sweeties be happy now because today is all you have.

I learned that all the small stuff is very small and not worth your time and attention. Gossip and resentments,worrying about things that never happen, fearing the unknown. Let it go my lovelies, breath and just be good to each other. I realized not long after my diagnosis that life is too short to spend it hurting people and holding onto the anger we have for those around us. I am no doormat, but I just let go of all that hard core resentment. God forgives us through the blood of His Son. He forgives those who hurt us as well.

I am sure that some of you are profoundly saddened by my passing. Death is far more about the living than the dead. But I believe in my whole heart that this is what was meant to be for us all. My friends rallied around us and supported us in every way imaginable. What an incredible gift. That was a lesson in selflessness for them. And in acceptance for my family. My children have many wonderful people to rely on. Their father, step father, grandparents, and friends. I have no doubt that they will be devastated. But in time these wounds will heal and reveal themselves to be battle scars that serve as a testimony to their inner fortitude. My children will move mountains.

Kelly wants to keep the journey going. He intends to chronicle about their lives without me. About the loss and the recovery from tragedy. Maybe you will all be as uplifted and comforted by his words as well. My children will write too, sharing their experience. Thank you all for participating in my life. For providing sweet words of encouragement and prayer. I pray that none of you will ever get cancer, it sucks. But if you do or someone you love does I pray some of my words are a comfort to you all. Have a wonderful life. I will have a wonderful afterlife.

Andrea Collins Smith