The phrase “now what?” has crossed my mind daily since my mom passed away. From the moment my mom left us on earth I have not sobbed once, I have felt plenty of sadness, hurt, and loneliness but more of just wonder and the repeated phrase “now what”. Of course, I have cried countless times, but nothing extreme like I imagined I would. I told my friends “I’m okay right now, I guess it will hit me later” but about a month has gone by now and I’m still waiting for that ball to drop. After a lot of thought, I started to wonder did I already go through the five stages of grief?
For a back story for those who are unaware, my mom was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer in January of 2018 and her battle ended on March 19th, 2019.
During those 14 months, I experienced every emotion imaginable but even among the highs and the lows I persevered and for that I am proud of myself. From begging to leave Mississippi and transfer schools after learning that my mom was sick, to being selfish and putting my happiness first and removing the controllable negativity in my life, to packing up my life into two suitcases and moving across the world all by myself for almost five months, to returning to a town that I hate and reminds me of insincerity, to losing my best friend way too soon - I am still standing. Upon reflection, I believe it is a possibility that I moved through the five stages of grief during those 14 months.
Denial:
The first two months of 2018 I definitely faced my fair share of denial which basically consisted of me constantly crying. I felt like my ENTIRE world was falling apart. I didn’t really know what to do with myself I just wanted it to go away and wake up from the bad dream. I was overall confused and shocked. How could this be my reality? Why my mom, why not someone else? Why now? How did God let this happen? My world was turned upside-down and every day hurt. I felt very alone and just heartbroken.
My biggest fear had come true. Ever since I was little I had this gut feeling that my mom was going to get lung cancer. I can still remember being in elementary school at summer camp with my church and hearing about the other kids giving their lives to Christ and often times peoples testimonies include adversity. I always thought to myself “my life is great, I am thankful and lucky and I have not faced these trials like so many of my peers” and truly that was when I developed the fear that my mom was going to die from smoking. I always have felt that I am a very intuitive person, since I was a very young age, my mom always told me I just knew how to read people and situations, my friends always trusted my gut feeling about things, I just can often sense things and feel people and situations out and I follow my intuitions about things. Through all the church camps, the mission trips, the Bible studies, and the sermons throughout my childhood I feared the future and I feared for my family’s health and safety - but especially my mom.
And that brings me into my next stage of grief…
Anger:
When I went home for spring break in 2018 that’s when my denial and anger merged and then I entered my next stage of grief that I probably lingered in the most out of all the stages. I was clearly in denial about my mom's health before I came home for spring break because I was completely shocked by the reality I faced the moment I walked in the door of my home in March. I can still remember my mom just laying there on the couch when I got home hardly even coherent. The once lively face that would literally greet me in the driveway every time I came home from Mississippi was no longer there. My mom was tired, she was hurting, and she wasn’t the same mom I left when I went back to school that semester. I was shocked. I remember being SO incredibly hurt by how she hardly spoke to me when I got home. I remember crying myself to sleep that night because that reality was starting to set in. This was truly the first time my mom felt the side effects of cancer, mainly since she just had her first round of chemo during the preceding days, and nobody really warned me but I guess nobody knew it would be that bad.
But the true anger set in a couple days into spring break when I found my mom sitting outside smoking. I truly have never felt a wave of anger come over me like in that moment. Before I knew it I was storming outside, grabbing the cigarettes and the lighter from my mom and throwing them into the pool. My parents were yelling at me telling me to stop, but I was trembling. Sobbing. Screaming. I was truly distraught, how could my mom be smoking cigarettes after she just had chemo and had done nothing but sleep for the past three days? I remember locking the doors so they couldn’t come back inside and I laid on the floor of my closet and sobbed.
Later, I remember my dad being outside while my mom was asleep on the couch again and he was trying to talk to me about my meltdown. But that only set me off more. All I remember from that conversation was me sobbing once again, yelling that she was killing herself. I cried out that she was never going to see me graduate, never see me get married, never meet her grandchildren. I was heartbroken, I felt abandoned, I was bitter. After that I laid in bed for the entire day just crying, I refused to talk to my mom, I was just isolating myself. My dog could sense something was going on, he laid in bed with me and literally cried, barked, and scratched me for an hour straight because I wouldn’t move I was just laying there angry at everyone and everything. After those first few days of spring break, I decided I couldn’t take it anymore and I left.
So yes, the anger stage hit me pretty hard. My mom and I fought a lot during the year because I blamed her for getting cancer. Maybe it wasn’t her fault, maybe it was, who knows. But the anger came and went until the night before I went back to Mississippi for my spring semester this year.
Bargaining:
In May on Mothers Day, my mom told us the doctors told her her life expectancy was only months. Here I was about to move to Australia until December and the doctors said she only has months left to live. I was terrified. My new biggest fear was me being in Australia and getting a call that my mom died. I believe this was when my bargaining stage of grief began. I once had prayed that my mom's cancer would go away but now that prayer had changed to please just let her be here when I get home from Australia. The reality was starting to sink in.
Being in Australia was really just an escape and a break for me. I needed to get out of Ole Miss and I also needed to get away from home. A lot had changed from the time I moved to Australia in July and by the time I moved back home at the end of November. My family told me that my mom really held it together until I went to Australia and that’s when she started to deteriorate. Things were different when I got home.
Depression:
My mom had a stroke about two weeks after I got home from Australia, I was driving home to Texas from visiting Ole Miss and my dad called me to tell me my mom was in the hospital. They weren’t really sure if it was a stroke, or the chemo, a seizure, or what exactly but she was not in her right mind. The next week or so leading up to Christmas my mom was COMPLETELY out of her mind. It was the wildest experience it truly felt like my mom was in the last stages of Alzheimer’s or something. We didn’t know if her mind was gone or if it was just temporary. Thankfully the worst parts faded and her mind got stronger but I don’t think she ever fully got it all back.
That December was really hard. It was almost Christmas and we knew it would most likely be my mom’s last, which it was. Our once highly celebrated and tradition-filled holiday was slowly dwindling down because my mom was no longer able to do the things she once did. It was the first Christmas we didn’t do “Santa gifts” which isn’t a big deal but it was just like another taste of reality that life was changing, I am growing up, and I am about to lose my mom. It was heavy.
I often would find myself getting upset or angry about things and would just go lay in my bed. One night after my mom came in and tried to talk to me, most of my family ended up in my room and we were just talking. My mom was crying, telling us she was afraid to die. It absolutely shattered me. She felt like she was going to miss out on all of our lives, she wouldn’t get to see any of her children get married. She told us we could just lay a rose on an empty chair for her at our weddings. Her words hurt. She and I laid in bed while I cried that I was only 21 and it wasn’t fair, I shouldn’t be losing my mom this young. But life isn’t fair and it doesn’t make a bit of sense.
Acceptance:
The last and final stage of grief. I wrote a piece about my last memories with my mom the weeks leading up to her passing and it really reflects this stage of acceptance.
Seeing my mom in so much pain and suffering brought me to acceptance. How could I hold onto my mom when she isn’t really there anymore? My mom fought. She held on, longer than she should’ve. I know my mom wasn’t ready to accept her reality because that meant leaving us, and none of us were ready for that. But the pain became too much and her body couldn’t take it anymore. I had to accept that it was for the best.
I was so upset and not ready to lose my mom going into spring break, but after seeing her in basically a vegetable state for a week, it gave me the time to find a little peace that she will be in a better place.
My mom’s death was sudden. I thought we had a couple more months. Everything happened so fast and it came out of nowhere. I don’t understand why, but I have to accept it and learn how to adapt. That’s where the “now what” phrase comes back to mind. I feel at peace because I know my mom is at peace. But now I have to figure out what life looks like without her and I wish it wasn’t that way but that’s life.
So is it possible to go through the five stages of grief before someone actually dies? In the context of cancer and disease, I believe the answer is yes. My grief started the moment my mom was diagnosed. Now a month after her passing and having time to reflect - I feel okay. I feel strong. I will always miss her. Sometimes I will still have bad days and sometimes I will get upset. I will probably always be a little bitter and wonder why this happened. But, I am figuring it out. I know she is with me and my strength and perseverance come from her.
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