On May 5th, 2011, I lost my mom, best friend, and the one who mattered most in my life.  She had noticed that she had started to lose a great amount of weight, and we all knew something was wrong because she just wasn’t the same Jina we all knew and loved.  When I was in fifth grade, my mom received the devastating news that she had cancer at the age of thirty-eight.  One day my pastor came over to our house after he had heard the news of my mom’s diagnoses, and I sat on the stairs, listening to their whole conversation.  My mom was crying, and Pastor Jim was trying to comfort her; but it seemed like nothing helped.  As I sat on the stairs, I thought, ‘Why did this have to happen to such a good person?’  My mom did everything right and everything in her power to make sure us kids were safe and well taken care of, so why did it have to happen to her? 

For the next two years, my mom basically lived in the hospital, and that’s where we had to spend most of our time with her.  She had to have numerous surgeries to take all the cancer out, but it just all kept coming back.  The doctors tried giving her chemo, but that didn’t work because the cancer was just too strong.  As we sat in the car waiting for our food to get done at the pizza place that was across from the hotel we were staying at for the weekend, my dad turned to us and said, “Your mom is going to have to undergo chemotherapy and it might make her lose all of her hair.  She might have to start wearing wigs if she does lose all her hair.”  I cried my eyes out in the car and prayed to God that she wouldn’t lose all of her hair.  My mom never lost her hair after they started the chemotherapy.  I can remember one day when we went to the hospital to see her.  We had arrived at the hospital, taking in the smells of the hospital, which we were used to now, and we walked into her room.  We all said, “Hi, Mom!”  She was sitting up in her hospital bed, and she was all yellow; but she still had a smile on her face.  My mom just smiled at us, and we all gave her a hug. The yellow skin was a side effect of her cancer along with the many others.  After we were done visiting with her, we would usually always go down to the hospital cafeteria and have something to eat.  We knew the menu from left to right because we ate there so many times.  They had warm, crispy fries, greasy bacon cheeseburgers, cold meat sandwiches, salads, etc. Because of one of the surgeries she had, she had to wear a bag in order to go to the bathroom.  I remember her sitting on her bed, and my sister and I helping her change it. 
Her battle with cancer went on for two years, but through it all she was always positive and happy no matter what was thrown her way.  My mom never really complained about anything throughout her whole battle.  I believe she was more worried about what would happen to us than what would happen to her.  In the final weeks of her life, she quickly lost her ability to do anything, and we all knew it was time for God to take her.  My mom couldn’t speak, talk, or even move which meant that the green recliner was going to be her home for the next few weeks. 

The night before she died, I went over by the green recliner, crouched down, and said, “I love you, Mom, good night,” even though I knew she couldn’t say anything back. After I told my mom good night, I went to my room and cried my eyes out thinking, ‘She is probably going to be gone in the morning, and she never even said I love you back.’  She wasn’t gone the next day, so before I went to school, I crouched next to the chair and said goodbye one last time. “I love you, Mom, goodbye,” I said, knowing that this was the final time I would see my mom and tell her that I loved her. 

As I sat in my English class, Mrs. Miller came in and said, “Melana, your dad is here, and he has some news.”  I knew what news was coming my way, but I wish it had been different.  As I was walking down the hallway I thought, ‘Melana, she’s gone.’  Before I even walked into the room, I started crying because I knew the news that was coming.  My sister, dad, aunt, and grandpa were all in the room crying too.  My dad looked at my sister and me and said, “Hospice came and announced your mom dead a couple of hours ago, but we didn’t come and tell you guys until after the funeral directors came and took her body. I didn’t want you guys to see your mom like that and didn’t want you guys to see your mom’s body carried out of the house, so that is why I didn’t come and get you guys right away.”  We didn’t really say anything back because the tears just kept pouring out, but after awhile, we all headed out of the school, went home, and tried to remember all the good times we had with her.  The new pastor at our church, Pastor Dinnen, came over and said a prayer in the house with my dad.
A few days later, the whole family went to the funeral home to see her one last time before she was cremated.  Some of the family did not want to see her like that, so my grandma and I went into the room and looked at her one last time all by ourselves. “She looks so peaceful and like her old self,” said my grandma and I as we stared at my mom, remembering all of the good times we had with her before she received the news that she had cancer and before it completely overtook her body.

The visitation was very long and tiring with many people showing up every minute to give their condolences.  There was a slide of pictures going on the power point in the church, which was when I lost it.  I went over to my dad, put my head on his chest, and started crying my eyes out.  My dad didn’t say anything to me.  He just held me in his arms until I was ready to let go.  The funeral was very nice and practically the whole school came to it.  My grandma wrote a poem about my mom for the funeral, but she had Pastor Dinnen, who officiated the funeral service, read it because she knew she couldn’t get through it without crying.

I am always going to love and miss my mom the rest of my life, but everything happens for a reason even though we don’t know exactly why.  I feel like having had gone through this difficult experience, it has made me a stronger person today.  It’s sad that my mom won’t get to witness the many accomplishments in my life like graduating from high school, graduating from college, getting married, etc., but I know that when I reach all these milestones, she will be looking down on me and smiling thinking, ‘That’s my daughter, and I am so proud of her.’