Story Time

I talked to my mom today on my way home from work and she needed to tell me something.  She was at the car dealership this morning (after a rescheduled appointment from Monday) and she was talking to the woman who was sitting in the waiting room with her.  The woman received a phone call and my mom said she burst into tears.  When she got off the phone, she put her head on my mom's shoulder and cried.  The woman had just spoken to her daughter who had just been diagnosed with a brain tumor.  Her daughter was in New Hampshire and they were in Maryland.  My mom said she was transported back to the night that I called to let her know that I had gotten the same diagnosis.

I remember like it was yesterday.  I was dreading the phone call, not wanting to even accept the reality of it all.  I had gone to the doctors for migraines and a whole lot of tests later, and one particularly scary drs. appointment I found out- a brain tumor was what was causing the headaches.  I, being young and stubborn, had insisted on going to the drs myself, telling my husband that I was fine.  I remember sitting in my living room in shock, not knowing who to call or what to do- it was busy season for my mom and I knew she was working late.  I told my husband when he got home from work and found me shell shocked and barely talking.  I called my parent's house- knowing that it would be my dad who answered.  It was some how easier to talk to my dad about it- because he would keep a level head and wouldn't get upset on the phone.  He just wanted to know the facts- our relationship at that point in my life, was on the mend from those hellacious teenage years that were full of angst and disappointment.  He did get emotional on the phone- which made it even harder for me.  I remember the sound of his voice that night- I will never forget it.  I wanted so badly to be five years old and able to curl up on his lap and have it tell me it would all be okay- but I couldn't....they were 10 hours away and he couldn't tell me it would be okay.  He told me he would tell my mom when she got home from work.  Hubby and I were laying in bed and I was crying waiting for her phone call.  She called at 11:37 that night.  Crying- asking me how it was even possible- trying to get answers that I didn't have.  They were ready to jump on a plane that night to come see me and I told them no.  I knew that they needed to be with me and I wanted them there but I needed some time to digest what was going on and see what kind of answers I could get before they came up.  See I thought that if I could stay strong and have a smile on my face- no matter how much it was hurting inside- that it would be okay.  It is okay now- but it was a long journey to get here.

That night was eight years ago today...I don't think that my mother remembered that it was today that I told her about it for the first time.  But she found herself, in the right place today to hopefully bring a bit of hope and understanding to someone who had a glimpse of what hell  must look like...

I have been thinking about all of this a lot lately...so I know that I will be scattering bits and pieces of that on this blog in the next few weeks...I think I need to look at it with some perspective...