"It's going to be okay."

So this is a far less fun and uplifting share than what I will usually have on here but as well all know about this crazy adventure called life, there are some dark moments that fill our times here in Earth. One of my darkest days was the day I found out my mom had a brain tumor. It was a rather strange series of events that led to me hearing the sickening news. She had been getting headaches and some other symptoms that just didn't seem right so she went for a MRI. Full body scan. The nerves were already starting for me. My mom is my person, my superhero, role model, best friend, person who I can't lie to for the life of me and my greatest fan. Something can't be wrong with her... It's probably nothing. A couple of days go by and it kind of slipped my mind, I figured if something was severe they would call right away. Mind you, at the time I was living in Gainesville and her in Fort Myers. So our communication was limited to phone calls. She kept telling me she hadn't heard anything and I didn't think much into it. The next weekend I had a planned tripped to go down to Ft. Myers, spend it on the beach with my friends just soaking up the sun and enjoying life. On my way down I gave my mom a call as always and for some odd reason was reminded that she still hadn't told me if there were any results. "Mom! Did the doctor ever call you about the scan?" Silence. "Yes... we will talk about it when you get home.." Panic. Hyperventilating. Sobbing. I just knew it was something terrible. Mind you this is taking place on I75... So she made me take a deep breath, told me it's going to be okay, and that she would see me soon. Immediately called my best friend. We talked about the scary possibilities and saying no that wouldn't happen to her not someone this close, this isn't a movie.. Maybe it's cataracts! (She was quickly losing sight in one eye) but I could hear in my childhood friend's voice that she too knew it was not something that simple. I made her stay on the phone with me all the way until I pulled into the driveway of my house. "Text you as soon as I know. Okay I love you." Deep breath. Walk in the house. Hug my mom. She welcomes me and tries to make regular small talk. Nope, cut to the chase. What the hell is going on? I remember it so clearly "Well honey... they found something." Immediate hysterics. I like to think of myself as a tough person that I've "been through" some stuff.. but nothing compares to this. Nothing. At that time we knew it as one brain tumor (ended up being two) something I couldn't pronounce and couldn't spell at the time luckily since webMD will give your nightmares a whole new meaning. She just kept saying, "I'm not going to die. I'm not going to die." Bold statement but she new where my mind was going and wanted to stop my pain. I just held her and kept thinking, why. That's all that repeated in my head for weeks, why, why, why. Anger. Sadness. Fear. I was rather open with people thinking that sharing everything would make me feel better, but the "it's going to be okay" meant nothing from anyone except her. Her bravery and strength was the ONLY thing that kept me going. My mom was not always someone you would describe as overly positive but maybe all of it was being saved for this very moment in our lives because it was miraculous. I know damn well that she broke down with fear with her friends and by herself but she never once showed it with me and that is something I needed. Doctors appointment after doctors appointment, scans, waiting, then the worst but best part of it all, Brain surgery. Everything happened so slow yet so fast. The day of her surgery was so scary for me I was up all night panicking. Morning of she finally looked worried and I say worried because the woman was having her frickin BRAIN operated on and refused to have a care in the world over it because that was the only way we could go on. It was my time to say, "It's going to be okay." and it was. But boy that moment, when they took her back was the scariest moment of my entire life, I kept it together until I hugged her. Ya know how there's just something about a hug that can make you cry? Well imagine wondering if this was the last time you would hug your mom.. I pulled myself away and then the wait began. 8 hours. 8 flippin hours. The things you learn about the medical system when someone incredibly close to you are horrifying. When they called for us to come in and see her my whole body felt relieved. Like a ghost had left my soul. But that was just another beginning. Seeing her post surgery is an image that haunted me for a really long time. It's like part of me thought I would walk in and she would be "all better" as if they got the bad stuff out... So weird what tragedy can do to your brain. The next 7 weeks I cared for her. In a hotel. Such a strange experience that I'm so happy she barely remembers. So odd not being in our home but she got the surgery done here in Gainesville and I quickly learned that it is very difficult for people traveling for medical issues that are not necessarily specific to a certain cause or area that is taken care of. Something so life changing about bathing your mom. The role reversal makes you everything feel so raw and tender. Like you just picture how many times she bathed you and fed you and took care of you when you were sick. So selfless. You just want to take back every ugly thing you ever said to her when you were 15 and just can't picture ever batting an eye at this person again because they're alive and the best thing that's ever happened to you. She later on had 2 rounds of radiation one being easier on her body than the other, and I continued to have the fear of losing her even though she was "better." Coming up on two years of her surgery anniversary and I have watched her transition into her new life. The struggles have killed me inside because all I ever wanted to say was "But you're doing well be happy that you're better now." It's this part that is hard though. No more casseroles or just checking on you calls, just cold hard life. Learning to work again and feel strong and confident. Being able to get frustrated with her and give her tough love... Such a weird thing to explain but anyone who has been through something similar understands the guilt and the transition of getting back to a semi normal life. Long and personal post but something that I've been wanting to write about for a long time and haven't been able to find the words until today. When one of my closest friends came to me about her worst nightmare and all I could say was "It's going to be okay."