My week started out with a computerized path of a plane fly over a satellite map while sitting in the plush seats of the economy section. October was spinning to a close, with pink Breast Cancer ribbons mixing with the tacky orange and black of Halloween. I always flip through the flight magazines, looking for anything to pass the time. This time, thanks to the shitty month of October, I opened the magazine to the Breast Cancer Awareness section. The magazine had thoughtfully highlighted the Stage IV section, making a note of all of the stewardesses that were living and working despite the cancer in their bodies. One stewardess was even praised for living with it for 17 years. Along with the envious magazine, the airline handed out pink paper coffee cups and napkins. Oh, joy. I was surrounded.
What a start to the week.
Normally I do not go home during a semester due to the long drive, but this semester I had managed to make it home 4 times, this being my 5th. The first few times, mom was conscious, able to hold conversations, occasionally got up to use the bathroom, as well as feed herself. This time, she was barely conscious. When I first walked into her room on this last visit, she was laying on her back, breaths coming ever 8 seconds. Her eyes slowly peeked open, sensing someone was in the room.
“Hi, mom. I made it home.” I whispered as I engulfed her frail body in a hug. As I rose from leaning over the bed, I saw her dark eyes fill with tears.
“I love you, mom.”
The response was small and weak, but she was able to respond just the same.
My dad, standing beside me, proceeded to softly explain that I had come home due to her insistence that it was time and she was tired of fighting. My mother nodded her head, closing her eyes and falling back to sleep.
This was the beginning of my mothers last week on earth.