My mom had an MRI on Monday and they found a new brain tumor. This one is 2 inches by ½ an inch, and it wasn’t there two months ago. The doctor says that she has 2 – 3 months left.
I’ve anticipated this day – this day when they find a tumor regrowth. I’ve expected it at the last 4 MRI’s. But I wasn’t prepared for this.
I wasn’t prepared for how short 2 – 3 months feels. I wasn’t prepared for having to think about things like what the memorial service will be like, or what the living room will look like when she’s not sitting in her chair.
I wasn’t prepared for the tears that won’t stop coming, that leak out of my eyes at strange times. I wasn’t prepared for the ache that hasn’t gone away since I heard the news.
I wasn’t prepared for how loving my friends and coworkers would be, or for how supported I’d feel. I wasn’t prepared for all the sincere offers of hugs and company that I’d get.
But mostly I’m not prepared for her to die. I’m just not ready. I know that it’s been almost a year and a half coming, but I’m just not ready.
And I wasn’t prepared (and you probably weren’t either) for how much I just want to scream and curse, and mostly yell FUCK YOU to the universe.
But hey, it was always going to be a totally shit time, right?
(A gold star for you if you can guess the movie the title of this blog post came from. Two gold stars if you can describe the scene.)