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.