Remember hearing,“you are just like your mother”? In middle and high school it was like fingernails on a chalk board. Back in the day, I was “Joan’s clone” - a look-a-like replica full of sassiness… and didn’t I just know it all?! It’s funny what 20 years does to your perspective. I heard it again the other day. Instead of my usual thought -“ugh,” it was more along the lines of “oh…don’t I wish.” You see I am grateful for every single gene that I could have possibly picked up from her DNA. And what I didn’t get, I am trying my best to somehow soak in through mother-daughter osmosis.
My mom, Joan, is a breast cancer survivor – 15 years to be exact. The gene she got, without asking thank-you very much, was BrCa which has reared its ugly head throughout generations of our family. Brave Chicks before her like Grandmother Fry and Aunt Amy passed along that breast cancer gene, but they also happened to pass along some other concoction of determination, relentlessness, and strong-willed genes that ended up in my mother.
Since that speed bump in her life 15 years ago she has used her nursing know-how to counsel other newly diagnosed breast cancer patients. Never the doom and gloom, but always that “can do” attitude that is so contagious when you are with her. She has grabbed life by the horns and made special moments for all those who have crossed her path.
She has poured her heart and soul into her grandchildren – 9 _ “T.W.B.K’s” to be exact – The World’s Best Kids, as she calls them. Forget that she is a good 12 hours away, she made a deal that she would visit each of them once a month until they could talk on the phone. (Our families weren’t dumb making sure another baby was on the way before that little rascal could even mutter “hi Nanna” on the phone!). When she visits she has the most unassuming way of helping. A clean load of laundry magically appears on your bed, dinner is on the stove before you even realize she opened the frig, the wine rack is all-of-a-sudden filled, and those holes in the kids socks…mended, folded and back in their drawers. “You are just like your mother.” Don’t I wish.
In August she took two of her grandchildren to Maine – one week for each of them so they could have special one-on-one time with Nanna. Still to this day, it is the only time when my 10 year-old son Nick will still hold hands – and only his Nanna’s hands. I look at the time that she spends with my kids and realize that it is truly the greatest gift ever. She gives them unconditional love. There are no strings attached for a clean room, chewing with your mouth closed, saying your pleases and thank-yous… Their little kindred spirits are just empowered to fly footloose and fancy-free.
Three days after that trip she called to “just give me the heads up” that she was having a minor procedure done the next day. O.K., the draw-back to the strong-willed gene is that she often deals with her speed bumps on her own - marching forward like a one-woman army. The minor procedure was the removal of a cancerous lymph node. That lymph node, and her knowledge of it, was with her while she was walking the trails holding Nick’s hand in Maine.
Today she is in the midst of 6 months of chemotherapy followed by radiation (which she insists she will re-negotiate with her oncologist – he doesn’t stand a chance.) Her prognosis is excellent and her outlook is inspiring. Instead of complaining that her hair is going, going, gone… or that she can't eat her favorite foods or have a glass of wine with a friend - - she has stepped up her lipstick to bright red, found a special ginger ale that tastes great in a wine glass and is starting new fashion trends with her great selection of hats and BIG earrings. During her three-hour treatments (wearing her red One Brave Chick hat of course!), she spends the time encouraging other newly diagnosed patients, bringing a smile to their caregivers and getting a rise out of the nursing staff. If you ask me, she is one brave chick who can do all that while poison pumps through her veins!
She sent an email at the beginning of her treatment to family and friends. Her words are posted on my bulletin board – even in her time of needing others, she is still giving and comforting. To be on the receiving end of her strength, determination and courage is truly a gift.
You all are my cancer posse. You are my "kick-ass" crew! You are my safety net. You are the beginning of my healing circle. Please.....no flowers, no chicken soup. Brave chicks don't eat chicken soup!! We're moving on....let the battle begin!
Back to mothers and daughters. My daughter Jordan has a will that I swear is un-matched - although my grandmother and mother both tell me that yes, they have each seen it before. Funny, they both have the same look on their face when they tell me that…kind of like they know exactly what’s headed my way in the next 10 years. Right now, however, I see a spunk and spirit in her eyes that I wish I could bottle. It’s the same sparkle I see in my Mom’s eyes. “You are just like your mother”??? You can bet I am trying my hardest.
...the feeling you get when you recieve one of these kits is awesome.
