I was 15 years old when my mom was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma. It was the night of my high school’s talent show and everything changed with one conversation. Life became after school visits to the hospital and learning everything we could about the cancer that had become our reality. Mom remained our rock and beacon of light despite her uphill battle. Her joy and laughter could not be put out by the chemo and radiation. She gave us hope in times where we could not hope ourselves.
Weeks before my senior year of high school mom’s condition rapidly deteriorated and she died on August 14, 2012. You’ll see me refer to my mom as, “the greatest love of my life and worst heartbreak.” Nothing and no one could’ve prepared me for how earth shattering that heartbreak was.
The first weeks felt like learning how to be a human again. How to breathe with lungs that have been crushed. Walk with legs that have been broken. How to perform basic functions like eating and showering. Sleeping didn’t feel like an option because even closing your eyes couldn’t give you a moment of reprieve.
Against all odds, my brother and I graduated high school and both went to colleges on opposite sides of the country. I fled to Boston thinking I could run from the loss. Instead those four years became the
There are some losses we never move on from – instead we learn to live with them.
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