Personal Narrative: Lung Cancer

Believe, faith, stay positive, and never give up. These are the words I live by.

Riding in the passenger’s seat of my dad’s car, I felt my eyes fill with water. Slow, desolate tears began to fall down the sides of my face. “How could this happen?” I question my dad. Looking over at him, I knew that this was serious. “Sometimes people just get sick and no one can explain it,” answers my heartbroken father.

That day was the first time I heard that my mother had gotten lung cancer. In February, a couple months prior, she started off with just a cough. However, I was sick at the same time, so we both thought we had a cold. Although my sickness passed after a couple weeks, my mom’s did not. In April, she finally went to see a doctor, who diagnosed her with lung cancer. Not knowing how severe it actually was, the next step was to take some tests.

“Stage four,” my mom said to me when I asked for the results.

Thinking this was partly my fault, I felt terrible. If I wasn’t sick, maybe she would’ve gone to the doctors earlier, and they would’ve caught it sooner. Trying to be strong, I bit my tongue. However, once I heard the number four, a little crystal bead escaped from my eye. The feeling of warmth slid down my face, dripping off of my chin. Fighting back more tears, I went over to give her a hug. Her strong embrace broke me. One tear turned into a straight rainfall. In addition, I could no longer breathe. “It’s just a bump in the road. Everything will be all right,” my mom said

comfortingly.
Eventually, at the end of May, the time came when my dad took my mom to Mexico for treatment. Coming from Canada, my mom’s best friend traveled to my house to stay with my brother and me. Not being able to see her that summer was one of the hardest things to do. Although we talked through FaceTime, it wasn’t the same. Not only did I miss the way her hugs felt, I missed her laugh. Having the most contagious laugh, she would make me laugh with her for what felt like hours until we had to stop to breathe. Without a doubt, these were the moments I missed the most.
On August 28, my parents came home. At this point I had already started my sophomore year. I was beyond relieved to finally see her again, but I also felt broken hearted. The treatment in Mexico helped, but it wasn’t enough. As the cancer spread to her brain and heart, we realized that she needed to be in the hospital. “These bumps in the road are starting to seem more like potholes,” my mom told my dad. As her health began to deteriorate, the hospice made a room for her. As I held her hand, she took her last breath. Peacefully, she passed away on September 18, 2016.
I can’t tell someone how to prepare for the loss of a parent, because no one knows how. No one can be ready for that time to come, no matter how hard they try. Although, the one thing I can say is that time truly helps. Not a day goes by without her on my mind, but as time progresses, it gets easier. Since that day, I have grown as a person. I now appreciate life as much as I can because I know how fleeting it is. Additionally, I make an effort to make more abiding memories because I know how important they are. If someone asks for advice to get through their own grieving situation, I can help them through it. Although these are all crucial changes in my life, I will live by the four things my mom always said. Believe, faith, stay positive, and never give up.