Cancer stole my best friend.

But, it can not steal my memories.

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this is our story,

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Mother’s Day

Today was rough. So rough I can’t write about too much. I kept telling myself today was just another day. Like all 364 other days, it was awful without you. But, seeing all the Mother’s day ads, cards, and gifts just made it more than just another day. It was a constant reminder that you aren’t here with me. Most days I can get by just by not thinking about you too much.. but today I saw you everywhere and that just killed me.

I miss you so much Momma, happy Mother’s Day. Thank you for being the very best mom any daughter could ask for. If I ever took you for granted, if I ever seemed unappreciative, I am so very sorry. You were the best, you are the best and I will never, ever forget all you have done for me. I love you, always. 

sorry i haven’t posted in awhile

I wish I could say it was because I was doing so well I just didn’t have anything to write about. Quite the opposite actually, I’ve been in a huge funk with just too much on my mind to write any of it down.

This past weekend was the lowest I’ve felt in a long time. I finally let myself open up, let loose and start feeling again. Just to get my feelings crushed by some stupid guy who isn’t worth my time. I’ve been through so much, I thought a little rejection wouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. But, wow. I can’t believe how much it hurt. The worst part of it was I didn’t have my mom to call and to comfort me. So I cried myself to sleep holding a picture of her clutched to my heart.

I feel like I’m getting to old for this. It has to get easier sometime.. right? But, it’s getting harder to stay optimistic. 

Something needs to go my way sometime soon. I need a little hope.

A little more about me.

So I’ve had this blog up and running for a nearly three months now and have acquired a handful of lovely followers. I would really like to hear more from you guys, maybe about your situation or anything specific you’d like to hear about me or see me post.

As incentive I’m going to share a bit about myself. A few things I may have said before, but as I have new followers I’m going to repeat it!

My name is Jordan, I am twenty-two years old and I lost my mother to stage four metastatic breast cancer one year and twenty-four days ago. I am from a small suburb an hour outside of Chicago, Illinois. But, as a college student I live in the city now. I took a year and a half off midway through my undergraduate program to go home and be with my mom. So, I’m a bit behind but I should achieve my goal of being a Physicians Assistant within the next three years.

Among my remaining family I have my father and two brothers who are seven and eight years older than me. I have a very complicated relationship with my father. I was always a Momma’s girl and now sans mom, my dad and I have had to work very hard to evolve our almost acquaintance like relationship into an actually functioning parent-child relationship. I’ve never hated or loved my father as much as I have in the past year. We spent many nights and days screaming at each other, taking our grief out on each other and I think we have finally arrived at the “as good as it’ll get” point. We don’t talk that much, but I go home and see him every other weekend and I guess I’m content with that. Because my brothers are so significantly older than me, we aren’t very close either. We don’t have much in common and don’t have a lot to talk about. It’s very hard for us to be without the glue that held us together. Our mom had a way of making us feel like a close knit family, but without her I’ve found we are kind of strangers.

It is because of my lack of support from my remaining family that I enjoy writing this blog. It is mostly for me, to get things of my chest and record my memories of my mom. But, I am also very interested to hear from the followers I’ve gained. I don’t have a lot of people to talk to, so I’m turning to you guys.

Tell me your story! Let’s get know each other and maybe help each other out in such tough situations :)

Here’s a photo of the smallpox scar on her left upper arm. I don’t know why something so trivial means so much to me, but it just does.

Mom and me, Winter Vacation 2008

Here’s a photo of the smallpox scar on her left upper arm. I don’t know why something so trivial means so much to me, but it just does.

Mom and me, Winter Vacation 2008

Scars.

We all have them.

From that time you fell of your bike or that chicken pock you just had to scratch…. Something as small and seemingly insignificant to my life as someone else’s scar brought me to tears today. 

The weather here in Chicago has been unseasonable warm and everyone is in shorts and tshirts already. I was extremely hot and feeling very lazy today so I decided to take the bus a few blocks from campus to my apartment instead of walking. One stop away from my apartment, a middle aged woman wearing a tank top got on the bus. I didn’t pay much attention to her at first, but when she sat down in front of me I saw it.

On her right upper arm she had a scar from the smallpox vaccine… it looked just like yours.

Granted probably all scars from the smallpox vaccine look like each other, I was instantly flooded with memories of seeing that scar.

The first time I asked what it was, the way it reminded me of a sideways eight (or the infinity sign as I got older and better at math), the times I traced it with my finger when I was young, bored, and fighting sleep with you laying next to me. 

I had to shut out the thoughts, they hurt too much. I quickly gathered myself together, stopped my sniffling, got off at my stop, and walked home without anyone noticing my complete breakdown. Once in my quiet, empty apartment I grabbed the nearest picture of you, held it close to my heart and sobbed til I fell asleep.

Most days I feel like a strong independent young woman because of how you raised me, but today I was just a scared little girl and all I wanted was my mommy.

I think I just really miss you.

The past tense.

Like most kids, I learned and perfected English grammar in elementary school. Including the use of tenses.

I can easily say I had a sandwich for lunch or I went to the library yesterday.

So why is something so fundamentally simply so absolutely difficult when it comes to talking about loved ones we’ve lost?

I cringe when I say things like:

My mom used to call me everyday, my mom was so funny, my mom loved me.. 

Today on the phone with my grandmother I found great comfort and also great sadness in realizing she is having the same problem as me. She had said, “I think you’re more like me than your mother likes to think..” and their was an awkward pause as she quickly corrected herself by saying “liked to think.” We carried on our conversation without discussing it, but we both knew. We knew that when we make a mistake like that… When we refer to her as though she’s still here with us and then have to take it away simply by changing a letter, it’s like losing her all over again. Maybe not in it’s entirety, but it hurts just the same.

One letter, it’s as simple as changing an S to a D. But, it means so much more than just one letter would have you think. I went twenty one years referring to my mother in the present tense, twenty one years with having her by my side and it’s hard enough to have to grieve her loss than to have to talk about her in the past.

I learned in my cultural anthropology class the other day about some cultures that don’t have tenses. Not that they don’t perceive the past, they just don’t have specific tenses to dictate time. 

I wish I was apart of a culture like that. 

That I would never have even learned about stupid tenses.

And more importantly, I would never have to speak of my mother in the past.

Home.

The weeks fly by and the years roll on.

The house is quiet now and everything inside it seems to know she’s gone.


Brandon Flowers’ “The Clock Was Tickin’”


While this song is about a romantic relationship over the years and what happens when a spouse dies, this lyric speaks to me on such a deep level. Those that have lost a parent know the feeling. The feeling that the house you grew up in, the home you’ve created with your family seems so desolate without the parent that filled it with so much love. The emptiness felt by losing a parent touches everything. Nothing is the same without them. Everything in the house is now a constant reminder that your mom or dad no longer live there. 

I think that’s what breaks my heart the most when I go home on breaks from college. My childhood house just does not feel like home anymore. Without my mom it’s just a structure. A structure that encompasses everything I wish I could go back to. All my memories. My memories of times when that house felt like a home. A place I felt safe and comfortable. Where life happened. Where my brothers and I grew up. Where our heights are lined with permanent marker in the garage. Where I took my first steps, lost my first tooth. I miss the feeling of home. I have an apartment now, but that’s not my home. And if my house isn’t home.. Where is it?

I want more than anything to remember that house as the place my mom lived, not the place she died… but, I just can’t.

Television.

I am a bit obsessed with it.

It offers me a kind of relief that nothing else does.

Movies are over too quickly…. With television shows I can sit down and have a marathon all day.

I can just implant myself into my favorite show.

Escape from my life for a bit.

Turn of my brain and just indulge in a fantasy life that I could never have.

I can’t enjoy most of the shows we used to watch together very much anymore. Like whenever I sit down on Monday nights to watch Castle, I can’t help but remember how I used to see you watching it and say it was such a silly show and poke fun at you for watching it. I can’t help but remember the one night I just wanted to be near you so I layed next to you while you were watching an episode, even though I thought it was the most stupid show at the time. It was then I got hooked. Although I am quite fond of the great writing and expert acting now, I really think I was sucked in because I watched it with you. It’s something we shared, memories I’ll never forget. But, now it just feels empty. When I watch I’ll want to look to my left and see your reaction to a particular scene. Sometimes I feel crazy because I’ll catch myself talking to you.. “Did you see that?!”.. and the silence breaks my heart.

one year.

Today marks an entire three hundred and sixty-five days without my mother. 

I felt rather numb the entire day. I kept trying to shut out my feelings, to just pretend it was simply another Sunday. But, I’m devastated. Down to my very core. I fucking miss my mom so much, it’s all I can think about it. This last year has been horrible and I have no idea how I am gonna make it through another one.

Help me out Momma, I can’t do this alone.

Smells.

Every now and then I’ll catch a hint of a smell that reminds me of you. When it happens I instantaneously close my eyes. This may sound completely cliche but, when I close my eyes and take in the smell everything slows down. A memory will light up that backs of my eyes, bits and pieces, like a roll of film that’s poorly edited. It’s jumbled and choppy but when it happens it’s the happiest I’ve been in some time. I dug out the secret bag of your clothes I have hidden in my closet at school today. I buried my head in your old read nightshirt and got lost. We were laying in your room. Laughing. I could smell normalcy. We were just living. It was so easy then, in that memory. You and I, just watching tv shenanigans, trying not to giggle to loud and wake anyone else up. That bed was too small for us, but we made it work. And then it’s gone. It felt so real.

It’s unfathomable to think that in 2 weeks it will be one year since you were taken from me. I haven’t stopped missing you since.

I love you mom, I wish you’d come back to me. I wish.