Today marks the 5th anniversary of finding out that my mom had lung cancer. As I was sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner away from my family in the Caribbean in 2004 my grandmother called to tell me my mom was in the hospital and after doing some tests the doctors said she had lung cancer. Then we ate dinner and I told no one. But I thought about it. And thought about it. And thought about it. Because what else was there to do? I decided that she would be OK. I flew home the next day on one of those medical emergency tickets. By the time I reached Houston the doctors told us that the cancer had metastasized to her adrenal glands, liver, was wrapped around her spinal cord and in her brain. What could I do? So I thought about it and thought about it and thought about it. I stayed with her during the night as she was drugged up on a cocktail of pain meds and hallucinated. She would fight with me and ask me why I was hurting her and making her stay in the hospital. Then I had to go home and work back in the Caribbean where it’s fun and everyone is happy but I wasn’t. How could I be? There was nothing I could do. So I thought about it and thought about it and thought about it. I thought of how we could save her, I thought of all the memories good and bad I had with her and I thought about how when she died we would never have any memories ever again.
Grandma called me and told me I had to come home because the doctors said she was going to die. So I flew home and sat alone with my mom in her hospice room on Christmas Eve and watched It’s a Wonderful Life, her favorite movie. Ironic I know.
The next day she died. On Christmas day.
So forgive me for being selfish and hating Christmas music and not wanting to eat Thanksgiving dinner. I know it’s depressing and if I could make it sound any less depressing I would love to know how because I have no idea how to ever love this season again. Every year this story is all that I think about. The holidays are ruined for me and I’m afraid it will be forever. Don’t tell me to go volunteer somewhere for people less fortunate than me because I will still think about it and be sad. Don’t tell me to be grateful for what I have. Who said I wasn’t? Just know I hate Thanksgiving and Christmas and no matter how much cajoling you do I will still hate it. It doesn’t mean I’m an unhappy and depressed person all the time. Just the days of Christmas and Thanksgiving. After those days are over, oddly, I’m fine. Sorry for sounding so depressing. I just really had to get that off my chest.
(thanks to PrincessFroglips for the image)
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Hang in there… and thanks for sharing. That's a tough one, and I get it. Just know that… eventually, those two days will pass. Thanks for following me on twitter!
I can feel some of your pain. I got sick after Thanklessgiving last year and have been let go from my job. So my new feelings of the holidays is I want no part of it no longer. I am tired of the pressures of the holidays and the high expectation. This year I will only hang out with people that understand me and I want to feel the pain and torture of this lousy experience. Sometimes pain is better than a falsified pleasure.
I too will not come home for the holidays or even go shopping this year. I will be in hiding this year. The same goes for the so called new year 20–.
Who says you have to?! After all, it's just another day in the year.
I'm sorry that you've had such a rough year. The holidays are definitely full of pressure and sometimes they fell like they're only meant for those who have wonderful lives. It will get better, I promise. It doesn't matter who you're with as long as you're not alone. In the end, you may find it's not as miserable as you expected.
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