My kids keep asking me what I want for Mother’s Day. I keep telling them I already got it.
Six years ago today I stood in a backyard on a sunny day hugging my son so tightly he might have lost his breath. I released him in enough time for him to run down the hill and chase a ball that his 5 year old self desperately wanted to play with–carefree and happy in the knowledge that I was still with him, having just been diagnosed with breast cancer. What followed was a painful year of surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation but we did it–we all did it–my family and I made it to the next Mother’s Day, and the next, and the next and well…here we are.
This morning I hugged that same little boy, now on the threshold of the tween years, before he ran to grab a super-sized styrofoam airplane he desperately wanted to throw in the field. My cancer is still something my kids, husband and I all think about, but for the most part we are carefree and happy in the knowledge that while it did take me down breast cancer did not take me out. I am still here. I am still a mother to my children. I still get to open my eyes and see the faces of these little people so desperate to please me on a day like today. That’s why when they ask me what I want for this big holiday I tell them I already got it.
I got to be here today. That is what I wanted. And it’s what I hope I’ll always get for Mother’s Day.
| Posted May 9th, 2010 by |






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