Million Dollars for Mom: Spring in Texas

Lately I have been feeling down. It has taken me a while to figure out why, but I think I have.

Two years ago, my mom made her last trip to MD Anderson. Two years ago, we were told in a roundabout way that all hope was lost.

It was a cool morning, I don’t remember the date. Spring in Texas usually means cool mornings and warm afternoons. This day was normal. It wasn’t normal. The night before I flew into Houston so that I could be with my family when we found out how my mom was doing. Was the chemo working? Was her tumor stable?

It was late when I arrived the night before. My parents picked me up at the airport and my mom looked really good. We drove to the hotel and before I could get myself settled, she called and said I should come have my dinner in her room so we could visit. I did.

I remember that she had energy. It wasn’t energy that a healthy person would typically have, but for her it was a lot. She talked and talked and told me about her dinner. “It was good Carole. I actually had dinner and it all tasted good.” All I remember was that she had watermelon. She said she felt good and that she thinks all of her scans went well. She showed me a bump on her tummy and said that she thought it was from the injections she was getting daily. I told her to change spots. It was good to see her so positive, she smiled.

I miss her smile. I can close my eyes and see it like it is in front of me. My mom’s smile was big and genuine.

It was contagious.

The next morning was cool. My dad and I ate breakfast together and we quickly realized that everyone in the dining room was there for the same reason……cancer. We were all on the same team.

We made our way to the hospital. Mom lead the way. She was super nervous and it was causing her stomach to hurt. I can only imagine.

We made our way to the wing for her type of cancer. We waited. She wasn’t as positive today.

It was our turn.

The four of us made our way to the exam room. Mom and Dad sat in chairs next to each other. My brother and I sat across from them. Mostly I sat on the exam table so that I could be close to her. I didn’t have a good feeling about this visit.

The doctor came in an immediately began to discuss her diet. She rode a long way for this visit and he began with food; the news wasn’t going to be good.

I won’t speak for anyone in that room except me. If they want to discuss it then it is up to them. These are my memories the way I remember them.

“The tumor is growing. The bump on your tummy is where it has spread.” Blah, blah, blah. “You have more than three months but less than six.” I believe that was his range. “Don’t worry we aren’t giving up. We can try a few more things. I’ll see you in three months.” My response, “that wasn’t what you were supposed to tell us.”

There were more words spoken, I remember some and some I don’t remember. I do remember leaving the room behind my mom and the doctor said he would see her in three months. My mom said with a slight grin, “well if I don’t make it, I hope someone tells you.” I thanked him for all he had done. This was our last visit and I knew it. He knew it.

We left to retrieve the car. While we were waiting my mom and I sat on a bench. It was warming up and the flowers around the hospital were blooming. They were beautiful. I sat with my head on her shoulder trying not to cry hysterically. Then all of a sudden she said, “the flowers are blooming, Spring is early. God knows this is my last one.” She was right.

More things happened but I won’t go that far.

March is a wonderful month. Here the Jonquils bloom, the trees bud and the air turns warmer.

Spring! I love it! It is God’s way of showing us that we get a fresh start. As far as I am concerned, spring is the beginning of everything fresh and wonderful. On that day two years ago, it was the beginning of my mom’s end here. I still love Spring but it is a reminder of that day on that bench. My mom, knowing what she knew, still looked at her surroundings and found joy in what she saw. My mom loved Spring and so do I.

Still, it is hard, it is a reminder.

So I hope you will enjoy this Jonquil that I grew. They are my mom’s favorites and they will always bloom in my yard.