One year ago the wold I knew changed forever.

My mom died.  She was not even forty years old.  She had cancer.

I was with her when she died.  So was our daddy (her husband) and my older sister.  It was the worst day of our lives.

We knew she would die; we knew the treatments weren't helping, so daddy talked the hospital into letting her come home.  Nurses came and took care of her and gave her her medications, but it didn't really seem to do any good.  She was still in a lot of pain, and it tore me to see her suffering like she did.

They did give her medications for the pain, but again, it wasn't working.  Mom continued to cry and moan.  I couldn't sleep because I could hear her moving around in the bed, or getting sick, or crying and moaning.  Those sounds followed me into my dreams and I would have nightmares of her dying.

Mom didn't die, but she wasn't getting better either.  It was very hard.  At school, I tried to keep the pain hidden, but people could tell that I was not happy.  They would try to get me to talk, but I didn't want to talk.  I wanted nothing more than for people to leave me alone.

Then came the day when Mom died.  We knew the end was coming: she was spending less and less time awake and she began to have difficulty in breathing.  Even the oxygen she was wearing all the time didn't seem to offer any relief.  For a good part of the day, all we could do was sit there and watch her struggling for every breath.   Then it was like her spirit left her body and there was silence.  We knew she was gone, but it took the doctor to verify that.  When we heard the news, we all cried.

I don't remember much about the funeral excepting a lot of people came.  Blocked it out, I guess.  Maybe it was a good thing.  I don't remember much afterwards either excepting that people came to our house and brought food and tried to offer their support.  Again, I turned distant.  I didn't want to have anything to do with anybody.  I just wanted to be by myself.

Now it is one year later, and I find myself reliving the scenario all over again.  I feel nothing but a huge hole in the space behind my heart.  I feel as if a part of me is missing; it sure feels funny not having Mom here.  I miss her hugs and kisses, and I miss her perfume (she wore Wild Citrus Sunflower from Bath-N-Body Works, her favorite store).  I miss her fantastic Italian cooking, and I miss her laugh; it reminded me of the tinkling of bells.  I miss her pretty dark wavy hair and sparkling green-gold eyes.

I don't know why Mom had to get cancer, but she did.  And even with all the treatments, it still didn't do any good: the cancer won.  Mom didn't even have a chance, especially when the cancer spread from her breast to her bones and ultimately, her lungs, spleen, and liver.

Meanwhile, all I'm left is with memories.  Memories of Mom.

Mom, why did you have to go and leave me this way??  I miss you and I wish you could come back to me and the family!!  My world has collapsed, and I am still going crazy with grief one year later!!  

*Tears!*