My brother has already posted on this subject, but I have not. I haven't had time, internet connection, or the motivation to post until now. I'm now at my own home, after a week and a half of having my life turned upside down. Now that I've had a little time to think, and adjust, I want to put my own post out there about our mother.

My mom was one of the most wonderful people I've ever met. I know that you're thinking I'm biased, since she is my own mother and all. But if you ask pretty much everyone who ever got to know her, they'll agree with me. My mother was kind, thoughtful, caring, giving, compassionate, friendly, fun-loving, joyful, and a bright spot in the lives of everyone who knew her. As a nurse, it was her job to take care of people, but she chose some of the most difficult of nursing jobs, working in long-term nursing and end-of life nursing in skilled care facilities and hospices. She guided many people through the final days of their lives, and helped their families in the grieving process. But she didn't do this just as a job. She also chose to help people in physically and emotionally painful circumstances through a church program called Stephen's Ministers. She went to visit the ill, the lonely, the shut-in, the grieving, the angry, and gave them an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on. And she did it with the kindest of hearts. She also gave of herself in thousands of other ways, giving gallons of blood over the years (until the cancer made her unable to donate), giving her time to Bible studies and Girl Scout troops, and ultimately even giving the gift of sight after her death, donating her corneas (since they were about the only viable organs she had left).

In our own family, Mom did everything for us. She made sure birthdays were remembered, trangressions forgotten, Christmas cookies made, and was the cliched "glue that held the family together". Until the cancer came, we had all (and my father even admits it) labored under the assumption that he would go first and that Mom would pick up the pieces and help us go on. She had buried her own father at about the age I am now, and, after the cancer diagnosis and first surgery, was still able to take care of her mother's arrangements after she passed away from a major stroke. She had also helped my father when his own father, mother, and brother passed away. As much as we love my dad, his health and Mom's strength made it seem like Mom would always be the one who was around.

And now everything has changed. I knew, right away. All of the other updates we had received from the surgeon had either been via cell phone or in person in the waiting room. When he called down and asked to see the three of us upstairs in the ICU, deep down, I knew. I still had hope, of course, which I had been clinging to since the first phone call, the one where we were told there was a "complication". But I knew. As we sat in the little office, waiting for the surgeon to come in, I realized my teeth were chattering. I wasn't cold. I was scared. I've never actually been terrified before. But I was terrified nonetheless. I was finally confronted with my greatest fear. The life that I always thought I would have, the one that would someday involve handing my child to my mother for approval, was gone.

And we're left behind. My father seems so lost. Mom always took care of him, making sure he ate what he was supposed and showed up where he needed to when he needed to. And now that my brother and I have returned to what we can of our normal routines, my dad, who retired to spend as much time as possible with my mom after her diagnosis, is left to rattle around in an empty house, surrounded by ghosts and memories. My heart aches, both for me and my brother, and for my dad. Mother's Day is just around the corner, and my parents' 40th wedding anniversary is in a few months. And then my birthday and hers, and Christmas, and who will take care of the gifts, and the decorating, and the cookies? And us?

I am 32 years old, and yet I feel like a little girl who is sad and frightened and desperately wants her mommy. And really, that's just who I am. And who will come and kiss it and make it all better?