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is why I cannot support Susan G. Komen and charities like it:

I support a few charities, but I cannot support that one.  A charity that cares more about its imagine and harming other charities does more harm than good.  What happened to finding a cure?  So what if someone, or charity, who has the same goal uses “your” phrase.  How does suing them and take away from research money and time support your cause, or any cause?  I want to believe that these big charities can help, but they are like the banks “Too big to fail”. 

Cancer comes in so many shapes and forms, and affects everyone, why would you want to be the be all end all of charities.  You, Susan G. Komen, cannot and do not support cancer research (if you even do that anymore) of every type of cancer, so why harm other charities.  I just do not understand the logic of their legal actions, and in the civilian world I am an attorney.   

This is also why I research the charities I support, and I implore you dearest reader to do the same.


Speaking of Cancer…


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I am going to lose it on the next person who says:  “Oh I know what you went through because I know someone who had cancer, but they went through chemo and are perfectly healthy now”  or “Oh your mom had cancer?  Well so and so had blah cancer but they are fine now.”  Shut up!  My mom DIED from her cancer! She couldn’t even go through chemo.  Please don’t get me wrong, I am really excited when I hear that people are in remission and have “beat” cancer.  But my mom did not.  She died. So you have no idea what I and my family went through.  Your breast cancer survivor may be able to do the Susan G. Koman (a charity I do not support, but that is for another post) walk for the cure, but my mom is dead.  She never had the chance to do that or to know what it means to survive cancer.  And neither do I. SO just shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up.  

I would rather you be apathetic to my position and suffering than you be fakely sympathetic or empathetic.  If you know someone who survived cancer then you have NO IDEA the hell I went through.  My mom is not a cancer survivor.  There is no feel good story here.  I cry because I am sad from death, not near death.  I cannot sympathize with cancer survivors or their family as they cannot sympathize with me.  So stop trying and just shut the fuck up and move on.  (Im sorry if I offended anyone, because I do know plenty of cancer survivors, but this is me venting).

Time is of the Essence?


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I don’t know if I have really truly, properly mourned my mother’s death.  Six weeks after she died I left for my military job.  I came home for three weeks in February, and then deployed overseas.  My life has been consumed by the military basically since my mom died.  And I keep wondering if that has hindered me from properly mourning her.  I miss her more and more everyday; and I keep wondering if its because I am away from home, or if its because I never had the time to sit down with my family and just mourn.


Sometimes I just want to sit and be sad and I can’t because of mission requirements.  I have to be strong; not just for me but for the soldiers I lead.  I don’t have time to be sad, and I wonder if that is helping me by not thinking about her death and the sadness; or if it is hurting me by not letting me heal. 

Mom’s Cooking


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My mom was the best cook.  I know everyone says that, but really I loved my mom’s cooking.  She made all the homey food.  But it wasn’t just the normal homey food.  She made Polish homey food and German homey and French homey food and New England homey food, because those were the foods she grew up with, being from an Eastern European and French Canadian background.  It was all so good.  my favorite was the way she made London Broil and ghulumpkis (polish stuffed cabbage, which I probably spelled wrong). 

But the last 5 years of my mother’s life she had to “deal” with the fact that I am a vegetarian.  That means she had to adjust Thanksgiving dinner, family dinners, and eating out for me.  And I never really thought about it until tonight when I was eating dinner with one of my soldiers and he was talking about how delicious steak was; the flavor is what he emphasized.  And all I could think of was my mom’s London Broil and how delicious it was, and how I haven’t had it for almost six years and how I will never have it again.  I know thinking about food is kind of odd, but family dinners were a big deal for us.  Being raised by a single parent, the nights my mom, my brother and I could all eat together were special.  And holiday dinners were always a big deal for my family.  So yea, food is important to me and my family.  So, sitting in the chow hall all I could think was 1) I will never eat my mom’s food again and 2) how bad I felt for not eating my mom’s food and wondering how she felt about not being able to cook for me, and how it felt having to adjust dinners and recipes for me.  I felt bad that I did not really eat her food for five years (and a little selfish). 

Now I would give anything to have my mom back for a day, and I would give anything to eat her polish meatballs, or ghulumpkis, or kielbosa, I would not be a vegetarian if it meant I could have my mom and her cooking back for just one day.  Because being together as a family for meal time was our thing, and I would do anything to have that back, especially now. 

Ok, Im going to call Mom now…


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I have almost said that in every phone conversation I have had with my family member since I got overseas. It is still such a natural thing for me to want to call my mom and tell her everything that is going on, even after nine months.  I just want to talk to her and tell her things and hear her voice.  It was always just so natural for my mom to be the last phone call of the night or for me to call her after I talked to my brother or aunt or whomever.  And they were used to hearing me say “Ok I’m going to call mom now”.  But if I say that now what does it mean? What will it feel like to actually says those words without her being here?  And how will it affect my brother or my aunt?  I always have to stop myself from saying it, because I catch myself wanting to say it all the time.  And I REALLY REALLY REALLY want to call my momma. 


Dear Momma,



Oh momma you would not believe the way your Princess Meme is living and the job I am doing.  I live in a small shipping connex with another person.  But don’t worry, its Chief and you like her.  I have to walk to another connex to use the bathroom and another to shower.  And every where I go it smells funny.  And I sleep on a twin size bed.  This is ridiculous.  

And the weather here sucks, its hot then its cold, and there is snow on the mountains.  

I walk around with a loaded pistol, me, your little democrat, walking around with a loaded weapon.  I don’t know how I got here momma, but I love it.  Im still your little princess, and trust me the sanitation issues, and the fact that I miss being a girly girl really sucks.  

You just wouldn’t believe it.  And I know you would be laughing at me and shaking your head if i was really telling you this on the phone.  You just would think it was so ironic how your little princess, democrat was living, in a war zone nonetheless.

And I wish you could see me and I wish I could talk to you. 


Your Princess Meme



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Cards were always something my mother did, probably due to being a baby boomer, it was just a generational thing.  But she always bought cards, even for stupid things, she even began buying me cards for my half-birthday (a holiday I invented and insisted my family celebrate).  And she always had a knack for picking out the perfect card, whether it be funny or sentimental, her cards always appropriately expressed her feelings. 

As I have said before, my mother died 15 days before my 30th birthday.  And I don’t know when or how, but she managed to buy me a birthday card before she spent the last three weeks of her life in the hospital.  And it was the most amazing card.  In just one single card it said everything every mother should say to a daughter and everything a daughter needs to hear from her mother. It was a beautiful card and it made me cry.  And the saddest part was that my mother never got a chance to sign it. When my Aunt gave me the card she said “your mom bought this right before she went into the hospital for the last time and she did not have a chance to sign it.”  So I have this amazing card that my mom spent the time to pick out and read and never signed it.  And I know my mom picked it out, because she never signed cards until she was ready to give it to someone.  In the last two weeks of her life she was barely conscious and there was no way she could have signed it, because even if she did it would not have been her signature. I will never be able to get rid of that card, it is that last thing I received from my mother, and I cry every time I read it.  And now I wish I kept every card that mother ever game me, because they are small glimpses into the love that she had for me.

That love from that unsigned card is something I will never let go of.  I would give anything in the world to have my mother say those things to me, in person, and I would love to have her signature in it too, because, just because.  A daughter needs her mother, and I feel like all I have left is that card, and I would rather have my mom…

I cried myself to sleep last night


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I have not done that in a really long time.  I don’t know why, but I just could not stop thinking about my mom, and I just balled.  Right into my pillow.  Crying. It was so painful to just think about my mom and cry.  And the only image in my head was of her on her death bed two days before she died.  And then I just thought about all the things I said to her over the summer when I just couldn’t admit that my mom was dying. Like on 4th of July when I told my mom that she had to get better so we could watch the fireworks on the beach “next year”, like we did every year, instead of watching them on TV.  Or when she asked what I wanted for my birthday, and the only answer I could think of was for “my mommy to get better.”   I still have a hard time when I think about how much she suffered and how much I couldn’t see it, and how many times I could have been a better daughter.  I was so wrapped up in who I was, and how much I needed my mom, that I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t get better. And I know how childish that sounds, but my mom was just so great that I knew she would always be there for me. And now she is not.  

I am not going to lie though, it felt good to just cry and miss her.  I had been thinking about her so much over the past few days that I guess I just needed to let it out. And I needed to cry.  I hope she is watching over me and seeing that I am doing great things.  And I hope she is watching over me as I prepare to go overseas, because lord knows I need her guidance. 

It is getting easier to cope, but it is still hard when I sit (t)here and think about her.  And everyone is always telling me to think about the good times, but all I can picture is my mothering suffering in the hospital for the last weeks of her life.  I hope some day soon I will be able to remember the better times, but right now all I see is her suffering, dying. 

Feeling Guilty


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Because of my military job I have been so busy lately.  And when I am busy I barely think about my mom, my loss and the sadness associated with it.  I don’t cry as much about it, actually I cannot remember the last time I cried over my mom (except for when I write these posts, I cannot write one without crying), but the  all consuming sadness and crying don’t come anymore.  I used to cry over my mom EVERYDAY, at least three times a day.  And now? I don’t really cry.  And I don’t know if it is because I am so busy or because I am over that phase of mourning.  I mean I still think about my mother everyday, and still wear her ring, but I don’t know.  I guess the whole time is healing thing is actually true.  BUT when I think about how I am not really crippled by the loss anymore, I feel guilty.  I feel like I should continue to be sad, that I should still mourn my mother, because if I don’t I am not honoring her anymore.  I know my mother wouldn’t want me to be sad all the time, at least that is what people say, but if I am not then how will she know that I really do miss her, that I really do need her here in my life?  That I still pick up my phone to call her everyday.  But I am not sad.  And if I am not sad, is that ok?  

I just feel guilty that I am continuing without her and that I don’t cry over her anymore.  Maybe it is from being raised Catholic.  I don’t know but I do know the guilt hurts.