My Mom, My Angel: Part I


My Mom, My Angel: Part I

My Mom… sweet Anne Marie.

There aren’t enough words. If you were privileged to know her, I don’t even have to explain.

She was the best. Truly. One in a hundred million. My Mom was loving, beautiful, sweet and funny. She was carefree and positive, always, even though her life had its challenges. She loved everyone and I was the lucky one to call her “Mom.”

She was my best, best friend.

But, cancer took my Mom and it took her way too soon. My Mom was diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer when she was 59. She had chemo for 3 years and when it stopped working, she was offered to try a clinical trial. Unfortunately, it didn’t work and we watched cancer take over her body. She went way too soon and I don’t know if I will ever understand why. But, I don’t want to talk about that now.

I want to share the beautiful connection I still have with my Momma and how she’s continued to protect me during this journey.

The day I went to get the biopsy done, the light was flickering in the operating room and the nurse said I had a “friendly ghost” with me. My sister replied to us and Fazal, “it must be Mommy.”

After the biopsy, I had to go back to Zwanger to do the follow up mammogram (to ensure the clip was placed properly) and while I was waiting in the waiting room, the light next to me was flickering. Ok, this one is odd I thought. “Hi Mom!” I also thought.

And then, when I went to MSK for my initial visit, to meet my surgeon and discuss the plan, the light outside the room was flickering!!! No other lights were flickering. It wasn’t like the ghetto biopsy location where I could say maybe it was their electric. This was pretty pure coincidence.

Meanwhile I’ve been asking for a sign from my Mom since she passed in 2016. But people often say, we get what we need when we need it, or something like that. I’ll take it. I felt my Mom saying, it’s going to be ok. You’re going to be ok.

So then, my lumpectomy (surgery) was scheduled… on my Mom’s birthday. Of all days. It was set for March 2nd. The “funny” part was, I didn’t know if I was going to do a lumpectomy or a double mastectomy. My surgeon said, let’s put the lumpectomy on the calendar and you can change it if you decide to go the other route. When the tentative hold was on my Mom’s birthday, I felt comforted that that was the right choice for me.

This was my Mom saying, I got you.

When I had to do the radiation simulation I was so nervous. I was shaking. These processes are terrifying and your brain goes to such extremes of the unknown. And then suddenly, I had a calmness come over me. It was my Mom. She was with me. I can do this, I thought.

She once said to me, “I’ll always be near” and I believe it.

I’ve often thought about my Mom being with me during radiation too. While I listen to Pitbull (a story for another day) and imagine her there with me.

When I met with a holistic doctor through MSK, she said, “maybe you met with me so I could give you a message from your Mom that you’re not alone.” That is exactly what I needed to hear and often tell myself.

Since I lost both of my biological parents, I often feel lonely. So many of my loved ones, my family, are in Heaven. I deemed them my AoA or Army of Angels to help me get through this journey. So, to hear from a complete stranger I am in fact not alone, it was a welcome projection.

A good friend of mine said to me, “I didn’t meet your Mom, but everything you’ve told me about your relationship leads me to believe that she would move Heaven and Earth to come to you in a moment of need.”

I can’t express how much I treasure this comment. She’s right. My Mom and I had, have, something so special. It’s hard to explain but she was for sure my soul mate. Not in a weird way but in a, we just understood each other, kind of way.

I still miss her so much. SOOOOOO much. But I am grateful to have had such a wonderful Mother for 28 years of my life. I would do anything to have her back but I trust that she’s protecting me (and all of us) from another plane.

I can feel her in the sunshine. Really. I know it sounds crazy but I do.

I love you Mommy, trillions and trillions and trillions.

Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for helping me and I hope you are so so happy up there.