I
often think of October 21st. More specifically, I think of October 21, 1990. On
this day, the world as I knew changed radically. It was the last day I would be
a kid. It was the last day I would know true innocence.
October
21st was initially a very fun day. I spent some time with a good friend of mine
doing the normal things teenagers do. I think we caught a movie and lunch. I am
not sure what else happened. However, I do remember we were having a good time.
Later that day my uncle picked me up from my day of fun and we were chatting
about the future. As we were talking I noticed there was a bit of hesitation in
his voice every so often. When we talked about my mother he became increasingly
distressed. However, being oblivious to the true nature of things, I remained
optimistic that my mother would soon recover from her recent illness. After
all, she had recovered from other ailments. I then arrived home and saw my
mother laying on the couch. I remember thinking, “she looks terminally ill”.
However, despite the powerful evidence thrusted in my face, I tried to remain
optimistic.
A
few moments later my father summoned me to the basement. I then learned
that my mother was terminally ill with ovarian cancer. As my father spoke
he told me how difficult it was for him to tell me this news as he was going
against his wife’s wishes. He would then continue to say that he felt
compelled to share this with me as he deeply feared my mother’s demise was
imminent.
Over
the years, I have told parts of this story to close friends and family. They
always seem shocked that I did not know that my mother had cancer for more than
5 years and would not learn about her illness until 6 days prior to her death.
They ask if I resent not being told about her condition until the very end. I
always give the same answer, “I do not bear any resentment. In fact, I have
tremendous respect for what my mother did.” In her heart, she did not want to
rob our childhood. She strongly felt that the burden of her illness should not
be shared by her children as her children would have face untold challenges
later on.
Interestingly
enough, virtually no one knew my mother was sick during all of this time
including her boss who was a doctor. Additionally, during this time my mother
continued to live life to the fullest and helped her children and everyone
around her with such passion and strength. In a sense, her ability to
keep this secret for so long gave her strength as my mother did not want to be
pitied.
As
I reflect on how my mother carried herself I am always amazed how much strength
she had while facing tremendous challenges. Think about this for a moment. Here
was a woman who was working, helping her children, family, and community while
undergoing all kinds of medical procedures on a regular basis. Yet, you never
heard her complain about any of this. Through my mother’s example I continue to
be reminded of a simple yet powerful lesson. Never give up hope, no matter what
the odds are. Never stop trying, no matter what the odds are.
I am
always deeply moved by how much my mother sacrificed for to nurture and protect
her children. I remember, how she would tutor my brothers, be a confidant to
all of us, share with us sound advice, and most importantly always have time
for us. With this in mind, I am forever grateful for everything my mother did
and will continue to draw strength and inspiration from her selfless
compassionate example.
