Thursday, February 2, 2017
This throwback. It makes my heart so happy.
But also: tears. Because this was my first visit since her diagnosis. A month after we had returned from our visit at Christmas [that aside from my momma coming down with the flu and then passing it on to Colby & I to bring home to KC, it was normal and wonderful and filled my cup]. Then a few weeks later, less than a week prior to this visit, she was dealt the worst news of her life.
I can remember sitting on the loveseat across the room from her where she sat in the chair and verbalized much of what the doctors had told her. Her treatment plan. Her prognosis. The inevitable nature of this terminal diagnosis. The swarm of logistics regarding work and travel and finances and leaving my dad, my brother, my family, and the house and land behind. As she lost her composure, through the sobbing and tears she said, "Just give it a minute - this will stop. The waterworks are like a tick I can't control - but it will stop shortly."
In that moment, I kept my composure. Just as I did throughout that year in the moments I was faced with a lump in my throat and my heart breaking into a million pieces inside when I talked to her. But amidst the many things she had said to me during that conversation, that one had stuck out the most. She was less than a week into this battle and had shed enough tears to know their pattern. Oh, how I wished away her reality.
This morning, though, my composure is lacking. But being 3 years out from my sweet momma's cancer diagnosis and 2 years from her passing, I've shed enough tears to know that mine, too, will stop shortly.
(Original appearance of this photo appeared in "my weekend in photos" here.)