For my mom

Today would have been my mom's 66th birthday. God, I really miss her. I think of her every day. The grief process has been long and difficult for me, but I can say that now when I think of her, I feel joy more often than sadness. I think of how much of her is in me and how lucky I was to have her for the time that I did. On days like today though, I do get sad. It's her birthday and I just wish that I could call her or see her. Take her out to dinner. Give her some flowers. Tell her about work and what's going on in my life. It's days like today when her absence is very palpable. It's the expectation of times we would have had together that will never be. Advice that will never be given. Milestones in the road of life where she's looking down on me instead of holding my hand. I try not to wallow, but it also doesn't do her justice to pretend like I'm fine on these days.

I think of how hard she fought cancer, how hard she fought to be here with us still. I think of waiting in this courtyard at Duke during her neurosurgery and tears just cascading silently down my face for hours praying that she'd make it through the surgery. I didn't know then that she would not only make it through the surgery, but find the strength to battle a stage IV brain tumor for two years.

During her recovery, it was hardly a week before she tried to get us to walk her down to her floor back to her office. She wasn't even cured herself and she wanted to go help cure her patients. The pills, the infusions, the radiation, the hair loss, the weight gain, the nausea... How she went through it all with such beauty and strength. She survived to a point where 99% of people with her diagnosis do not. Even before she was diagnosed she was fighting cancer. I have this outdated nutrition book of hers from the '90s called "The Cancer Prevention Diet." Part of me wants to throw it away, but the other part of me sees it as a reminder of how important nutrition was to her. Just because the medical establishment hasn't figure it out yet, doesn't mean it's not coming. People like Dr. Seyfried give me tremendous hope that her dreams for preventative medicine may come to pass in my lifetime. I love you mom, happy birthday.