Answers Only Make More Questions

"Time heals, but also steals, precious moments..."

A little over four years ago, my mom and dad, the two people who had always been fearless in my eyes, sat me down for a conversation that would forever change my life. "Jill, I have cancer, said my mom." At that moment, my world (and heart) stopped. My mom had always been my greatest source of strength. She believed in me, loved me unconditionally, and was my very best friend. She told me she would fight it, that the cancer would not, could not, defeat her. To say she fought a strong battle against her breast cancer, would be an understatement. Yes, there were days where she lost her zip, but through it all, her own well-being was the least of her worries. My sister, dad, and I were her number one priorities.

During those last few months, upon being admitted to the hospital, I went to visit her and she sat me down on her bed, held me in her arms and told me that even though she would not always physically be there, she'd still be with me. She told me that no one would ever love me as much as she loves me. Finally, she asked that I be strong, take care of my dad, and to appreciate my sister, because, as she always used to say, "she's the only one you'll ever have."

Nothing and no one can ever replace a mother. My mom was the type of person who lit up a room and drew others in with her warm, caring personality. It is those memories, of her laugh, smile, kindness, selfless nature, and devotion to her family, just to name a few, that continue to inspire me.

However, it isn't always easy to be strong, and sometimes I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I feel short of breath when I think about how much I miss her, or when I suddenly have some piece of great news, but keep it to myself because she is the only one I'd want to share it with. I miss her everyday.

And now, almost a year and a half later, I am faced with those same three words that changed my life once before, only this time they are coming from my dad's mouth: "I have cancer." To me, this is the unthinkable. I am stuck in this hard spot where I am both refusing to believe it's true, while in my mind I am planning for the worst. My faith is shot, I have nothing left to believe in. I work in an environment where on a daily basis, I am encouraging hope, yet I don't think that hope exists within me anymore. My dad has become my confidant, hero, and friend. The only good that came of my mom becoming sick, was the growth and improvement in the relationship between my dad and I. He's become a new source of strength for me, so to see him cry and feeling lost is one of the hardest things I've ever had to witness.

I am at a loss when he tries to talk to me about it and find myself tripping over words to come up with the perfect thing to say. I don't have the perfect words. I don't have the optimistic attitude. I have anger and resentment toward this terrible disease. The American Cancer Society encourages "Progress.Hope.Answers", yet I sit here feeling as if none of that progress has helped the people in my life who I love the most, that, as a result, any hope I once had is now dwindling, and the answers only seem to result in more unanswered questions...