So today, on this Mother’s Day, on the 71st post on this blog, from the heart and mind of the young lady on whose birthday I launched this blog back on January 9th, are her words to my wife. Today we have a guest, as I turn it over to my 13-year-old daughter Sophie. Her letter to Debbie, her Mom, my wife, will reach into the confines of your heart.
A little background, though it would seem a letter to her mother would need no explanation. And to many who follow this blog you know the story, but I have a feeling we will have some new visitors today, so before I give you the letter, I should set the stage.
A little more than a year ago my wife Debbie was diagnosed with breast cancer, on May 10th 2012, she underwent a double mastectomy, and was declared cancer-free. Though anyone who has battled the disease it doesn’t exactly end there, far from it. The past year has been quite the ride, but this past Friday, May 10th 2013, we celebrated with a small surprise gathering to mark the milestone of one year cancer-free. Both my daughters honored Debbie with some gifts. My youngest Emily took the word Survivor and came up with a word from each letter, inventive, creative and beautiful. Sophie was going to sing a song to her Mom as a surprise, but this past week she came down with a cold and didn’t think she could pull it off. So with less than an hour to go before we were to leave for the surprise party, Sophie wrote a letter. But instead of reading it herself, and I believe for fear she might not make it through without breaking down, she had Deb read it out loud. What follows is Sophie’s letter to Debbie:
Mommy, I love you.
Those are the most powerful words in the world. It means that you give a part of your heart to somebody else. You’re in them and they’re in you. You put their happiness before yours, it kills you to see them hurting, you want to see them be the best they can be, you want to be there when they need you.
When you got cancer I felt like I couldn’t do any of that for you anymore.
I don’t think anybody knows what it feels like to have your mom get cancer. As I grew up, I knew what cancer was, I knew there wasn’t a cure and when I thought of cancer, I thought of death and sometimes that’s true when it comes to cancer. When Poppy died, I hated cancer. I didn’t get why I had to come and take lives. Not only did it take somebody’s life, it wounded everybody that person knew. I realized this at Poppy’s funeral, before then, all I could think about was Poppy and how I wanted him back, but then I realized how many people were affected and how they wanted him back too. I don’t think everybody realizes the effect of death. It’s depressing, scary, lonely, but it brought our family together. It’s horrible that somebody had to go (die) for me to realize how much I love my family and friends and how I didn’t want anybody else to go through this.
But then my nightmares became reality and the worst happened. My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer.
I had already had experience with cancer, my grandpa died from it. I knew what it could do to people. The night I found out my mom had cancer I cried all night. I stayed up all night crying and getting it all out, I couldn’t stop. I went to school depressed and everybody was trying to help, but they couldn’t. Some people thought I wanted attention… to whoever thought that, what 12-year-old girl wants their mom to have cancer?!!! What did they think this was about? Cancer takes lives! I would never want my mommy taken away from me. Like I said, it was my nightmare coming true and those people were just making it worse. Then it was time for Asia’s bat mitzvah, (Sophie’s good friend), and you couldn’t go because you had just had a huge surgery. At the end of the video montage at her bat mitzvah you appeared on the screen and told Asia you loved her. I couldn’t take it, I ran out crying and Asia followed me, crying also. I thought I was ruining her night, but I got myself together because I couldn’t do that to my best friend. The reason I cried was because when you were on the screen, you were healthy and you looked amazing. But back at home you were hurting and you couldn’t even get up. And when you love somebody you hate to see them hurting. But the road to recovery began, so much food was sent to our house, we could have fed the whole neighborhood. And you were finally staring to get better.
Fast forward one whole year and look where you and our family are now.
You are amazing, better than ever. You handled everything so maturely, and I know that’s what you think I should expect from my mom. But I know you were scared, you were a little girl once and you still get scared too. But you were so strong. Daddy told me you and he cried before surgery, and I’m glad you could let it out because I know you were holding it in so Emily and I would think you were fine. But look at you now, there is nothing left to hold in but pure happiness. You’re strong and happy and beautiful and everything is better. As your daughter, I couldn’t be more proud to have you as my mom because I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love you with all my heart and I want you to tell yourself every night before you got to bed that “my daughter loves me and she thinks I’m the best mom ever”, because it’s true. Even when we fight, tell yourself that, because that feeling never goes away.
Mommy, I love you.
I am honored, humbled, overwhelmed, overjoyed and feel fortunate beyond the depths of my being to have Sophie and Emily as my daughters. They are but pieces of the person who brought them to life, my wife.
Happy Mother’s Day Debbie and Happy Mother’s Day to all the Moms, mine included. 🙂 A simple “Thank You” doesn’t even come close to being enough.
Below is a link to the song Sophie was going to sing to Debbie if she had the voice.
I think maybe I’m glad she didn’t.
Until next time, thanks for taking the time.
The link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Af8mB9ABuJA