“Where’ve you been?

I’ve looked for you forever and a day

Where’ve you been?

I’m just not myself when you’re away.”

The first time I heard this song was in about seven years ago in the fall.  I was a sophomore in college.  I had moved into my first official “college house,” that was a dump for lack of better words.  It was cheap, but it wasn’t pretty.  I was floating high and happy as could be. I was going to college, had found the love of my life, and was pursuing my dream degree of Elementary Education.  In the midst of all of this, my mom had a doctor appointment in Hays.  She and my dad received the devastating news that she had colon cancer.  Colon cancer that was quite measurable in size and would require surgery, soon.  What many of you may not know was that my mom was already a breast cancer survivor.  She had been in remission for over 5 years and was just starting to relax and not worry with every passing day.  We all were shocked and terrified to hear that she had colon cancer.  And it was not recurrent, it had nothing to do with her breast cancer.  But you know who the strong one was?  You guessed it, Mom. She always was the strong one.  She scheduled her surgery over Thanksgiving break and spent a week in the hospital.  

The song I referred to above was my ringtone on my phone at the time, that’s why I remember it so well. I remember bursting into tears when I heard it, thinking of how terrible it would be to lose my mom.  I made the song my ring tone to remind me how lucky I was. How lucky we all were to get one more day, one more month, one more year, and soon to be over 7 more years with her since that first diagnosis of colon cancer. 

Intravenous chemo, radiation, scan after scan, major lung surgery, ablations, high intensity radiation, oral chemo, trip after trip to Mayo clinic, prayer after prayer, and plea after plea for that miracle to heal her.  She tried everything. She exhausted every last effort to save herself from the fate of cancer.  We all did. We refused to believe that it could ever take her from us.  That is why I am angry. I am angry that someone with such love, zest, and hunger for life could be taken from this world, away from those who love her more than they love themselves.

Mom kept a journal sporadically that you just were to share one sentence per day.  Every entry was about how grateful she was for her family, about the great day she had with her kids/grandkids/Dad, how thankful she was for life, and how appreciative she was to a God that was so giving.  It brings me to tears thinking of it.  How lucky we were, to have such a kindred spirit for our mother, grandmother, and wife.

I find myself searching for her.  I search for her touch, I search for her smell, I search for any moments full of her.  Going home to visit Dad, I find myself standing at her dresser, looking in the mirror, hoping to see her face.  I smell all of her perfumes, look at all of her jewelry, and look at her clothes. Oh what we wouldn’t give for one more day.  I keep hoping, wishing and praying that one of these days she’s going to be back. And like the song says, “Where’ve you been, I‘ve looked for you forever and a day…where’ve you been, I’m just not myself when you’re away.” 

I’m not myself without her. In my 28 years, I had maybe only gone 3-4 days without talking to her, sharing with her, telling her I loved her.  That’s what I miss. I miss her unconditional love, her encouragement, her laugh, her strength.  I miss her smile, her perfume, her quiet way of talking, the way she carried herself with such grace, her kind way of doing things for us, and her simple ways of telling us she loved us with gifts, message rocks, emails and cards.

I have to find a new me, one that must be strong and prevail when I feel like hiding.   I have to find a new normal.  Her spirit will live on in in us, her family.  Her heart lives in ours and her touch will be our conscience and our guide, leading us to the right paths to follow in life. 

Even though I am still so angry at the circumstances, I thank God. I thank him for welcoming Mom into his loving arms.  I thank him for granting her eternal life with Him.  I thank him for washing her body of all the pain, and most of all I thank him for giving her to us for as long as he did.  Even though she is no longer here in body, she will always be here in spirit.  We will meet again, and I can only imagine the tears of joy that will stream down our faces.