The Transition from Bratty Teenager to Loving Daughter..

My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was fifteen years old. Fifteen is a very interesting age. You think for some reason you are somewhat of an "adult" and can do everything now. Life is pretty much all about your friends and social life. Hanging out at the park, pool, having sleepovers, sneaking around maybe trying to have a few drinks here or there, having crushes or even in a relationship that most likely would never last. Life at fifteen is supposed to be overall easy and laid back with not much to stress about except silly social stuff with your friends.

That's what life was like for me. I had a close group a friends who hung out each weekend. We would go to the park, the pool, walk around uptown, try to drink in one of our backyards, have sleepovers and be carefree. I also had a boyfriend at the time which my family was not crazy about. I felt like life's biggest concerns were what we would be doing on Friday night, who had the coolest cell phone, who got new shoes, and whose parents were on vacation.

But after June of 2007, a lot of that changed for me. I had to quickly adjust, learn a new normal and somehow learn how to balance being a bratty teenager who thinks the world revolves around her and a loving daughter who needed to step up and take care of her sick mom.

At the time, I don't know if I actually was able to comprehend that or acknowledge that but I for sure understand the weight of that now as I begin to dive back into this. I know I wasn't always the loving daughter that my mom needed but I try to give myself grace knowing I was supposed to come full circle with my mom and laugh about the old days. Unfortunately I was robbed of that opportunity and struggle knowing I will never get to apologize for my teenager days.

After my mom sat me down at the table, a lot of things changed. It didn't change over night but overtime E V E R Y T H I N G started to change.

At first, I was extremely confused. I didn't understand what breast cancer was. Truthfully, I had never heard that before. I had heard the word cancer and associated it with death or a long term illness. It just wasn't something I experienced or was familiar with. Then add the term "breast", it seemed kind of specific to one area of the body. It seemed less daunting, less "final".

The first step for my mom was to get her breasts removed. In our minds we were like, "great, remove the source of the issue and stop it in its tracks." However, we weren't really told my mom was diagnosed with Stage 4 Breast Cancer which is a pretty high stage to find it.

Immediately after that, things were different. My worries shifted. It was no longer about what all my friends were doing. It became thoughts of;

-How is my mom?

-Is everything going to be okay?

-Is she doing to die?

-What do we do?

-Are we going to survive this?

-What is happening?

I mean I could go on and on with the constant thoughts that rattled around inside my brain.

But life took a shift. Mom was home more. Dad was even more serious than before. We had more roles around the house. There was constant company, meals being delivered and constant conversations about "cancer" and a lot of prepping us for what was to come. I remember people just looking at us all differently. Not in a bad way but you could just feel the sadness in their hearts when they looked at us. I remember even at school, the teachers looked at me differently. You could see they 'felt" for me. I think the more and more things changed, the more and more I realized how serious this situation actually was. The one thing that never changed was the feeling of being supported by so many from day one.

I think the hardest part of all of this was watching my mom loose a little bit of herself every day for about 7 years. I noticed it right away after her first surgery. If you knew my mom, you would know she was the most put together person. She was dressed, make up on and hair done by 7:30 a.m. every day except on Sundays. Sundays she always hung out in her robe for a while. She was on top of everything. She worked five days a week and came home each night to prepare dinner and have it on the table by 5:30. She had a list of daily errands that always got completed. Every day she made her morning phone calls that consisted of her sisters, Grandma and Jen and her daily emails that kept everyone in the loop. She knew everyone's birthday, send cards for every occasion and in simple words, could literally do it all. She was the most put together and independent person I have ever known.

Then I remember after her breast were removed and her first round of chemo, already some of those characteristics were gone. She looked weak, tired, sad. Honestly, in all that she went through, I think the hardest part for her was having to face us, to look at the pain we were carrying, the fear, the hurt. Even though we tried our best not to show it, to stay positive, to keep her spirits up, it was the elephant in the room, the thought that, "there could be a day she is not here."

That "what- if's" were the heaviest weights to carry.

What if she doesn't make it?

What if this doesn't work?

What if it gets worse?

What if we can't help her?

My mom however, taught us early on to try really hard to not focus on the "what-if's" and rather appreciate where we are, what we have and all the good that comes out of a bad situation. And from there my positivity and strength were created. I am who I am today because of her; because of her love, her strength, endurance, hope, faith and battle. I am a better person because she was my mother.

This was just the beginning of a six year battle.