My mom was always trying to find something fun for her friends, and me to do. She cared for everybody else and looked after them more than her self at times. She was laid back, caring, and would always lend a hand when you needed it. My friends loved her, whenever they would come over we would head to the basement to find that she went to the store and bought us snacks for the night. Little things like this were her specialty, but planning big events was another thing people looked to her to do. Every summer the up north cabin was jam packed with friends, great food, but most of all a atmosphere that was welcoming to anyone that wanted to join. She had a way of working with people that nobody had, and always made new friends. There was something about her that made it impossible to be made with her.
My family was a typical family. Mom, Dad, Dog, and, of course, Me. I was just starting my 8th grade year, finally out of the Middle School and up into the Junior High. So far it was a pretty average year, good grades and staying out of trouble. It stayed like this up until December, one day I got home from school and nobody was there. I sat in the kitchen with my dog, Buddy, and made some food, not thinking anything about it. About 20 minutes later, Mom and Dad walked into the house. She was crying, he just stared at his shoes. They sat me down at the kitchen island, my dad’s dreary eyes had bags underneath them. He could barely look me in the eye when he said,
“Lawrence, Mom has cancer”.
A small spot that should be no problem, one quick procedure and everything should be taken care of, no chemo, no radiation. We met with one of her doctors that week. The surgery was scheduled and would be quick, again no problem. In the mean time we went back to our normal lives, not letting it affect us in anyway.
    The surgery went well, the doctors said, but there was one small problem. During the time the cancer was found and the surgery, it had spread. They pulled out 23 lymph nodes during surgery and 16 were cancerous. A doctor sat down with us, much like my parents sat down with me, and told us she would have to start chemo. Nobody liked the sound of that, but, we had to go with it. We met with another doctor, an oncologist named Dr. Fata. He was supposed to be one of the best doctors in the area for this type of thing, and we wanted the best we could get. Seeing my mom go through chemo was one of the most difficult things I ever had to watch. Her typical self, dwindling down to a slower moving, less active, stay at home mom. She was tired all the time and didn’t really want to do anything, through all of this though she did her best to make the best of it. She began to lose her hair soon after the chemo started. She didn’t care. At first it was common to just see her walking around with a bandanna on or a ball cap. She eventually did get a wig and it looked exactly like her hair before, mostly just for nice events that her normal attire wasn’t generally accepted.
    The last few weeks of chemo were the worst physically, but mentally, she was ready for it to finally be over with. We were happy but nervous at the same time. Never had I hoped more to come home and hear good news. I opened the garage and no cars were home, they were still at the doctor. I went up into my room and just sat on my bed. I didn’t know what else to do. I heard the garage door open downstairs, they were home. I didn’t run down to them, but when I saw tears going down her face, my heart skipped a beat. She walked up to me and said in a squeaky voice,
“No more cancer”.
Her little fragile body had beaten the disease that so many others couldn’t. She was so happy that tears of joy ran down her face. I remember seeing her barely able to move her arms in her giant North Face jacket when she tried to clap in happiness. Finally something went right for her, even though she deserved everything to go right for her.
    School finished out and summer came. This was a summer to celebrate more than any other before it. My mom had gotten back into her regular routine. She started walking the dog again and golfing with her friends. Slowly but surely, she got back into her regular self. At the end of June, I had a trip planned to go spend three weeks on the east coast by myself. I had to fly on Southwest, they were the only ones who would let a 13 year old fly by themselves. First stop was in Delaware to see friends of mine I had met last summer. We were going to a place called Knoebels in Pennsylvania to camp at, a place they go every year. One week spent there and I was off to Maryland to see my dad’s side of the family. Spending time with them is always fun, but one week there and I was off again, back to Delaware to Dewey beach. This entire trip I didn’t call my parents once, so I figured late was better than never. While I was walking on the beach one day, I called them to see how everything was going. Everything was fine thankfully and they would be excited to see me in a couple days when I got home.
    I got to the airport and got on the plane. I’ll admit I was a little homesick, but leaving wasn’t fun either. An hour and a half later I landed at Grand Rapids. My Dad picked me up and we drove home together. When we got back to the house, my mom wasn’t there. He told me to pack my bags and we had to go back to Clarkston. I didn’t know why but then he sat down on the couch and told me. Mom had cancer again. They don’t know where it was, but it was back. One day when she was walking the dog, she started seeing two of them. She started getting headaches, and many other odd things were happening. After a few tests, the results came back that the cancer was never actually gone, and had spread to her brain.
    Getting news you have cancer the first time is hard enough, now try a second time. So, it was back to chemo and this time around, radiation. This time, chemo wasn’t as easy for her. She barely moved around the house and her hearing faded away slowly, along with her memor, often times walking into a room only to forget what she was doing. She would get terrible cramps in her legs and never felt the same. It pains you too see your mother this way. Never would I wish upon my worst enemy this terrible, terrible disease.
    After another almost full year of chemo and radiation, it was time for testing again. My Freshman year of highschool had just begun and the support I was getting from my classmates was tremendous. Friends always telling me good luck and asking how she was doing. It made you warm inside to know that people other than myself were truly concerned and wanted her to do well, that they too looked at her as a mother figure. Today would be the same routine that happened last year. I would come home from school first, and they would come back from the doctors to tell me the news. This time was different though, it almost felt like the boy who cried wolf. Even if they had good news, I’m not sure if I could believe it or not. The garage door opened, they walked in, Buddy stood up and greeted them, almost knocking my mom down. This time, there were no tears, but there was still good news, “No more cancer!”. Earlier I thought that even if they did have good news, that I wouldn’t believe it, but seeing and hearing the enthusiasm in my moms words made me believe everything that was coming out of her mouth. This time the scoreboard was Tam - 2; Cancer - 0.
Recuperating this time was much harder for her. It took her longer to get back into normal routines, some of which she never actually got fully into. Her hearing was still pretty bad, she would still cramp up every once in awhile, but the memory slowly came back and her strength along with it. Months went by and some symptoms never went away, some even got worse. Her leg cramps were so awful she could barely walk at night. She would lay on the couch and keep a heated blanket on her legs. Headaches came and went every hour or so. All of this was to the point of unbearableness, one night in early February my dad took her to St. Joe’s in pontiac to see if they could figure out what was wrong. Once in the hospital, they determined this was a less common set of issues cancer patients have when coming off of chemo. At the hospital, they could give her medication and 24 hour care that just wasn’t available at home. For two weeks, they kept her in the hospital, not once did I visit. I was sure that she would be coming home soon, and I was right. She was finally coming home, after not just a battle, but a war with cancer. Unfortunately, it was not over. A spinal tap showed cancerous fluid floating in her cranial cavity, causing her to lose most of her brain function. At this point, doctors couldn’t do anything, and all I could do was pray to god for a miracle.
When she arrived home, a hospital bed was already set up in the downstairs office. My dad had been spending nights at the hospital, they thought now he could finally sleep in his own bed, but he refused. He brought a lazy boy chair from the basement up into the office and spent every waking moment with her. Friends and family would come to visit to spend her last moments hoping to get some kind of response, but it was too late. The cancer had taken over her mind, she could barely make an intelligent sentence, let alone a word. The first night she was home, my Aunt from lansing came to see us. She was like a second mother to me, the coolest Aunt I had, she was more like a kid than an adult. Before I knew what was exactly going on, she pulled me up into my room and sat me down. She started crying. I had never seen her cry. She started to force the words out of her mouth that went something like this,
”Your mom’s a fighter”, “She’s been through a lot”, “She’ll be ok”, “You’ll be ok”.
Hearing her tell me that made it all too real for me. I thought something like this could never happen to a “normal” family like mine.
Weeks went by, and her condition got worse. I started missing even more school, only to go in maybe once a week to tell the teachers what was going on. In her final days, more and more people came by that I never thought would. Friends from out of state, and even the country. One night, when my mom had a really bad day, my dad came up into my room and sat me down. He sat in a desk chair I had in my room in front of my closet. The light shined behind him so he looked like a silhouette. He spoke softly, and calmly. He told me that mom wasn’t doing well, and God had better plans for her. He said to not be worried, and we would do just fine. I could tell he was crying behind the shadow of his face. That was the first time I had ever seen him cry. But then he said something else, something I don’t ever remember him saying to me. Through a crackled, choked up voice, he forced the words out,
“I love you”.
He got up and walked out of the room.
These were the last days, everyone could tell. In preparation for what was to come, the family and friends wanted me to get pictures together for the funeral. I didn’t want to do it. I knew that if there was a chance for her to live, we had to start with believing she would. I told them no many times, but finally, after about 2 days of fighting it, I caved. I walked up stairs with Meri, my dad’s best friend's mom, and started the process. 10 minutes later, Nick, Meri's son, walked into my room, he was crying. My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach. He looked me straight in the eyes and said,
“Shes gone”.
He put his arm around me and walked me downstairs. I saw my dad, also crying, holding her lifeless hand in his, and my Grandpa, one tear rolling down his cheek as he saw his daughter lose the battle with cancer, as his wife did 3 years back.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t cry for weeks after it happened. The funeral was hard, but I kept my self together. Seeing friends come from school to pay their respects to my mom was great. The entire lacrosse team came, all dressed up, to say their goodbyes. Seeing what her friends had to say were some of the nicest things I had ever heard about her, and the flowers. The amount of flowers that got sent to us were overwhelming. Our house was like a florist.
I never realized the lack of a relationship my Dad and I had before this. Even after what he told me that night in my room, to this day, it has been 11 years since I said “I love you” back to him. I guess I never knew who the man was either. Just being around him more often has opened my eyes to how he acts, and how he treats other people. Something that I most likely would never had known before any of this. Today, things are much different. My dad and I are have a much better relationship, I can actually talk to the man knowing what kinds of responses to expect. It was very odd to me that I could go 15 years without truly knowing the other man that lived in my house.
    After around one year of my Mom being gone, my Dad and I felt like things were getting as close to normal as they would be. One night after work, he came home from work and did what he always does, sits in his chair and watches the news. It was like any other night until I heard screaming and swearing downstairs. This was semi-typical for my Dad but never had I heard it this angry. I walked out of my room to see what was going on. I looked at the T.V. and saw the headline, “Dr. Farid Fata charged with 16 counts of health care fraud and money laundering”. I didn’t really know what this meant, all I knew is the man we trusted my Mom’s life with was now being charged as a criminal. I didn’t know to be angry or to be sad, in truth we didn’t even know if he had anything to do with my Mom’s passing... Maybe it was just meant to be. Even today, after he plead guilty and has gone to jail, we still don’t know. It will be one of those lingering thoughts that leave you with one last “What if?”
    We all lose. It’s a given from the day that we are born that we will lose something. May that thing be a tube of chapstick or a loved one, we all know it will happen some day. For me, it happened too soon according to many people. I agree with them, to this day I wish certain people could meet her, but on one hand, it has opened my eyes to a whole part of my life that was being ignored, my Dad. Going through all of this mess has taught me numerous lessons, from how to show affection to dealing with a problem bigger than yourself, things that will stick with me forever. 3 years ago, I took everything for granted, I thought I was the invincible teenager, that nothing could ever happen to me. I was taught differently in one of the worst ways possible, but overall, it has given me something to live for, that hopefully one day I’ll see the headline “Cure for cancer found” on the T.V. instead of all of today’s drama, and hopefully, I’ll get to spend the rest of these years with a new best friend, someone I just recently met, my Dad.