A Hoot We Needed

I haven’t updated in a while and it’s because so much has changed in the last couple of weeks.

I resigned from my position at work to achieve my dream of becoming a nurse; to fulfill a promise I made to my mom in the last few days of her life. Although taking care of her was the hardest thing I ever had to do, 13124513_10156928387720077_1334661829735087786_nmentally and physically, it was the most rewarding thing in my life. It taught me patience, acceptance, empathy, sympathy and it made me a stronger person inside and out. I started nursing school and it’s difficult – but it’s supposed to be, especially when your mom passed away just shy of two months ago. But my focus on my dream is stronger than ever, reminding myself each day that I want to help patients and their families during the hard times in their lives; just as others did for us.

We celebrated the first Mother’s Day without my mom, and it was the most difficult day of my life, second to saying goodbye to her. The days that followed brought emotions that I didn’t know existed, the day itself gave me lasting exhaustion. I was tired, irritable, sad, angry and experienced feelings I can’t even begin to put into words. 13124733_10156928387605077_2966671819641217940_n

Mother’s Day is supposed to be about spending time with the woman who gave you everything, who taught you all you needed to know and more, who wiped your tears when you cried, hugged you when you were wrong and loved you no matter what. Except this Mother’s Day, it wasn’t that. She was not there to wipe my tear soaked eyes, she wasn’t there to have a glass or two of Pino Grigio with me, she wasn’t there to laugh with me or open up presents that I put so much thought into. She wasn’t there to go to a vineyard with. She wasn’t there physically and that was the hardest part.

People can tell me continuously until they are blue in the face that she is always with us, but that doesn’t change the fact that she isn’t tangible. She isn’t in front of my telling me, “Ashley, stop being a baby.” She may be with us, but physically she is not and that is something I just can’t fathom.

On Mother’s Day we tried to make the best of the day, remembering my mom in the best ways possible. We started off at church and prayed to God that she would give us some kind of sign that day. We followed it with a trip to the cemetery. It was raining and the rain fell down my face, just as my tears did. We placed an angel and flowers at her grave – two things we would never get her. First, because she hated flowers. Second, because she preferred her nails getting done more than a knickknack.

13124967_10156928387425077_2427183647542871906_nWe stood there in the pouring rain and I begged her that this was a dream that we still didn’t wake up from. I stood there until I could not stand there anymore. Visiting your mom at her grave is something you shouldn’t have to do. It’s not something I should have to do. I never expected this day to come this early and I always thought she’d be around forever, making it to her mid 90s, because that is the personality she had. I never thought that I would bury my mom so early in my life.

We continued with our day and had lunch with my husband’s family. At first, I wasn’t going to attend because 1) I was too emotional 2) because it felt as if I was replacing my mom with something else and finally 3) I was worried I would break down and cry because I couldn’t have lunch with my mom.

We came home from brunch and planted a tree in memory of my mom. My in-laws bought us this tree to help keep the memory of my mom alive. We dug out a garden and planted a Flowering Dogwood. Again, she doesn’t like flowers, but seriously, the tree is beautiful. We also decorated the garden with an owl stepping stone in honor of the first sign we ever received from her and another stepping stone in her memory – “If love alone could have spared you, you would have lived forever…”


And as the days pass, it gets harder, not easier. My praying that it is a bad dream is frequent and all I can think of is how this happened. How did this happen to the women that was so strong, so resilient? We’re approaching two months without my mom and it feels like time is going so slow. Each day drags on and its one more day without her.

Between the stress, our busy schedules, and my mom not being here it seems some days it’s unmanageable. So as I struggle for answers, for support from her and for a sign – she pulls through just in time – just before I break.

Yesterday morning, I went outside and saw that our garbage was torn a part. The garbage can didn’t look messed up, and only the top bag was torn. I called my husband and told him I thought a raccoon got into it for a midnight snack. Well, to my surprise, last night my husband was outside with the dogs when he saw what in fact was eating our garbage. It was a big, beautiful white owl. (If this is the first time you have read my blog, the first sign the night my mom passed away was an owl hooting outside of our window – and days that followed we saw more owls and heard them hoot.)

When my husband texted me this, I was in class and tears instantly filled my eyes. She was listening to me. She knew I needed a sign – she knew we all needed her, three days before the two month mark without her.

This one moment, taught me overnight to keep the faith, to keep believing and to know when times are tough, she still will come through, she still will take care of us.


My Survivor is my Angel

This week, our family and close friends attended Seymour Pink‘s 9th Annual Pasta Dinner to celebrate survivors of breast cancer, but to also remember those who lost their lives in the battle. We had two baskets raffled off in memory of my mom. Two baskets full of things she absolutely loved, including: Pino Grigio, getting her nails done, her dinners at Rose’s Family Restaurant, and the UCONN Huskies.


As we sat there and listened to the stories told and the memories shared, I realized we are not alone. There are people that are battling day in and day out to make the best of their diagnosis with their family and friends by their sides. There are families and children who lost a loved one too soon, with not enough memories to remember. There are communities who provide support and love to those affected. But most of all, there is a lot of heart and love in Seymour Pink.

They took a picture of all the survivors of breast cancer and they filled an entire side of a room. They had all these smiling faces, but their smiles were different. They smile differently then the rest of us when we receive good news. They smile because they have their life. They get to make more memories. And, that is a different smile.

As the picture of the survivors was taken, I couldn’t help but feel sad. Tears filled my eyes and I couldn’t stop thinking about how my mom was once a survivor, she was in that group of men and women, smiling because they had their life back. It was not too long ago that we cheered and smiled, because we found out my mom was cancer free. That feeling of happiness quickly subsided and we were back into the vicious cycle of breast cancer.

But, as I thought about myself in that moment of sadness the other night, I realized something. Just because mom isn’t here, just because mom can’t smile in a picture that gets taken, or just because mom can’t make memories anymore, it doesn’t mean she isn’t a survivor. Just because she lost her life to a battle that couldn’t be won, doesn’t mean she isn’t a survivor. In fact, she did survive. She survived through it all, better than any one of us could. And today, she’s surviving. She’s healthy, she’s cancer-free and she’s the best kind of survivor – she’s an angel. And that is where she will survive, forever.

My surviving angel, my mom, would have been proud the other night. We all held our composure and celebrated not just all the men and women that breast cancer has affected, but we celebrated her. We celebrated the life she lived and the memories she left behind for us.


But, when it was all over, it was real again and those feelings of sadness and missing her flooded my mind. And, today I sit here, missing her more than ever. I sit here with tears filling my eyes and wanting so badly to have her here with us. I want so badly to not have to take a picture with just the three of us. I want so badly to not have to visit her at her grave. My grief will always be there, and my sadness with always stay with me, because when you loose your mother, you loose a part of you. But, what keeps me focused and keeps me climbing to my goals and aspirations; and what helps me get out of bed everyday is that my mom was so strong, and she would want us to live our lives.