Yesterday I blogged about the last time I saw my mom (relatively) healthy and just out of surgery where she and the surgeon were optimistic about her recovery from breast cancer. Two months later she was gone.
It happened the day after Thanksgiving. By that time we knew it was coming soon. She had spent most of her last two months in the hospital, and by the Sunday before Thanksgiving rolled around we were discussing options for hospice care. The shock and disbelief that it was happening and then suddenly had happened was incomprehensible for all of us.
We wandered around my parents' house, the one that they had only bought 3 years earlier with intentions of making it a retirement villa, a mecca for out-of-town children and their families to stay during holidays, a mini farm where they could raise their own produce, where my mom could finally get in shape and walk to the humane society to get her puppy fix - an admittedly impractical house for everyday living. We wandered through the halls, cleaning, cleaning, cleaning, now cleaning and primping for funeral visitors instead of grandchildren coming for Christmas. Wondering what to do with all those fucking flowers and GOD don't they stink, and I know the next door neighbor is a really nice guy but do I have to run into him at Vons and get the sympathetic shoulder squeeze and doleful condolence face every time?
We were looking for some way to do something with our grief. Something besides mope and be angry and deal with the I'm So Sorries. So just before she passed, my sisters decided: the Susan G. Komen 3 Day For the Cure. The four of us signed up for the November 2011 walk in San Diego. It's 60 miles over 3 days; twenty miles each day.
If you're interested in donating to the team, you can click on my widget. $2300 is my goal, and any help would be amazing.
OK, so that's it for today for donation pleas. Seeya tomorrow!
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