10/18/1942 — 01/09/2011
My mother was the most loving, patient, kind, and giving person I have ever known in my entire life. She was a wonderful wife, a great mother of seven children and the best nanna of 14 grandchildren.
Losing her has left us all broken. Our lives have changed in so many ways. She was the matriach of our entire family. The glue that held us all together, the security we all needed when we felt insecure, the light of hope when we all felt down and out … and that has all gone.
My mother passed away 1/9/2011 – nine months after her initial diagnosis of metastatic melanoma. She was recovering from a triple bypass and also had type 2 diabetes, so being diagnosed with melanoma came as a surprise to all of us. The most surprise to us was that she was diagnosed Stage IV – too late to do anything.
Her struggle and will to live was intense, she never cried, and never wanted to see any of us cry. Not only was I her daughter, but also her caregiver, and when it came close to the end, the feelings of helplesness overwhelmed me so much. I couldn’t just stand here and watch my mother die, but God had to have it that way … and I had to respect it. I, along with my brothers and sisters, father, grandchildren, and extended family, sat beside her the day she died, in her home.
That was my purpose, to love her unconditionally and make sure that she knew we would be all ok. We put on a good front, but after her passing, we all broke down and did what we had to do, because we knew she didn’t want to see us or hear us crying. It felt good to let it out.
My grief is purely at it’s peak, depressed, angry, denial, all those emotions that come with losing a loved one. I simply can’t accept the fact, that after the life my mother lived, after all the hearts she’s touched, the help she’s given so many, the love she’s given so many, the hospitality she’s given so many … that the end of her life would only consist of her name being put on her tombstone and that would be it. Absolutely not.
I fought for her when she was alive, and I will continue to do so in her death. I do not want any family to ever witness or experience the kind of pain and suffering this illness brings. It is horrific. I will continue my fight to help in finding a cure, to help to support those who need it, and to help AIM at Melanoma.
Sincerely, a broken hearted daughter,