[ the new "normal" ]

“Mental pain is less dramatic than physical pain, but it is more common and also more hard to bear. The frequent attempt to conceal mental pain increases the burden: it is easier to say “My tooth is aching” than to say “My heart is broken.” – C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain Firstly, let me say THANK YOU to all of your prayers, well-wishes, and gestures of kindness for me and my family. I am overwhelmed by the response the last blog post received. Some of you offered words of encouragement; some of you made soul-felt confessions of time wasted and life taken for granted and vowed to do better. I had no idea the response it would generate. I read each and every comment and message and was, and still am, completely in awe of your humanity and realness. I feel honored that some of you let me into your dark places and shared your personal pain. I hold all of you close, every day.When we left you on the last post, Mom was in the hospital and had begun treatments. After five days in the nursing home, she got to come home. The radiation and two chemo treatments had already begun to shrink the tumors in her lungs to improve her oxygen intake to the point of not hardly needing it unless she moved around a lot. SHE CAME HOME. She even surprised Claire by attending her soccer match. Mamaw had made it back!She came home. …which personally scared me to death and caused me so much anxiety… I was in the minority in the family…everyone else was relieved…I was panicked. I could not shake the baggage from seeing her in the state she had been in before she went into the hospital. It took all of my energy to hide the anxiety and try to be happy. I didn’t do so well. She could tell something wasn’t right. Something was in the air…uncleared. It created an invisible barrier. I let it. It kept me from feeling too close incase something happened to her. I was in emotional survival mode. I knew I HAD to let it go…I knew I HAD to have a good cry and with all of those tears that fell to the ground, allow my insecurities and fear go with them… It happened on the side of the road on a bike ride…It all came out…the fear…the anxiety…the selfishness…the guilt… I embraced it all…and then let it go. I drove immediately after to my mom’s house, crawled into the recliner with her, and cried some more. She cried. The air was clear. It was ok for us to take off the brave masks we had been wearing and just be vulnerable…together. The next day, I got the privilege of taking her to her chemo and radiation treatments. (yes I made my mother take chemo selfies)She was smiling. She was goofy. We actually had a lot of fun together.I didn’t expect to feel what I did that day while at the treatment center. Everyone there was fighting the same battle and feeling the same things we were feeling. There was an unspoken bond with every eye contact made. Everyone had the same look in their eyes: sadness, yet hopeful, but all fighting. This little gal’s name was Betty and she took care of us as it we were her daughter and granddaughter. She lost her husband to cancer years ago and has been volunteering in some capacity at the center since. She was feisty and we loved it; this was her way of sticking it to this awful disease that had robbed her of the love of her life. Her eyes still lit up when she spoke of him. God bless you Betty.She looked beautiful that day. She felt so much better. The treatments hadn’t started kicking her butt as of then and she got dolled up for the first time in a month. I couldn’t stop staring at her. She felt pretty.I got to go into the radiation room before her treatment to see how all that jazz worked, and I was mightily impressed by the door thickness. Crazy!That weekend was full of fun with the kiddos as my Mom sat on the sidelines. Claire tried on her new wig…My sister and I took the kids canoeing for a mini get-away. It was so wonderful to laugh so much for all those hours. I honestly can’t believe we made it through the entire seven mile trip without dying.But when we got back to my Mom’s, our hearts were instantly broken. She was in so much pain and was sick. Chrystal and I both felt so guilty for having fun without her and then seeing her like this even though we know she wanted us to have fun with the kiddos. Guilt is a horrible feeling and it itself is a cancer of the soul. My sister and I were and are still both suffering from it’s infliction…She made the kids and I leave…she didn’t want them to see her like that…

Tuesday of this week, we had family photos done by My wonderful friend Emily Tesnow. She drove all the way to us and hour one way because she knew Mom couldn’t handle much of a drive.It was such a mixed bag of emotions. I was a nervous wreck because I wanted everything perfect and the day wasn’t going that way… But you know what? It turned out perfect.I cried watching her hold my kids. This is the only time she cried too. This photo takes my breath away… 

You can view a slideshow of the session here: http://vimeo.com/m/108022011
Thank you Emily from the bottom of my soul for giving this gift to my family…

That night, after the session, started an ugly downturn of negative emotions for my mom…she had lost her first clump of hair while getting dolled up for the session so things started to feel very real to her all of a sudden. The chemo is causing her to be paranoid: paranoid that we don’t love her, paranoid that the kids will forget her and replace her. She feels guilty for things beyond her control. She wants to fight. She is angry. Rightfully so…and we reassured her it was ok to have those feelings. But we also reminded her not to live there…not to stay there…feeding those feelings will suffocate her spirit just as the tumors do her lungs… We must be her voice of reason and reassurance constantly to help her keep those ugly feelings at bay… I just wish she could really see how we all look at her in amazement.So, this is where I sit before you today…This is so hard to watch…yes, the physical pain and sickness is horrible to see her go through, but the emotional pain is “more hard to bear”. My heart is broken… …and I can’t hide it. Love you like a circle, Mommy.

If you missed the first post of our journey, you can find it here: http://everydayphotographybystephanie.com/blog/?p=612