Beautiful fall leaves, football season is underway, and most importantly there is a break from 90-degree weather which means lots of good hair days for me without the threat of Georgia humidity reducing me to a ponytail. To say I love November is an understatement. It is the month I got married, my husband’s and oldest daughter’s birthday month, boot season, and who can forget Thanksgiving. Did I fail to mention that I really have a love affair with this month? And just like the fall leaves…everything changed. I can remember it like it was yesterday. The year was 2013 and it was the year that would change the way I looked at November forever. Exactly one week before Thanksgiving, my daughter Keris was diagnosed with an inoperable, malignant brain tumor. They gave her 6 months to live. World STOP.

The Prescription

The Pain was overwhelming. I remember thinking.. there is no prescription strong enough to remedy this pain. One thing was clear to me that day in the hospital room…I knew I could not allow myself to become paralyzed by my pain. The fight ahead had already started without me and I remember thinking that my feelings really didn’t matter in that moment. The only thing that mattered to me was fighting with everything I had for my daughter’s life. So I briefly allowed myself to feel the pain of my new reality and then…I didn’t. I pushed it away in the back of my mind and I left it there.  I felt myself changing. I felt myself adapting. I knew that it would be impossible for me as a mother to do what was ahead and also feel the reality of the pain that a cancer diagnosis brings. I remember making a conscious decision to focus only on the mission ahead and to complete my mission no matter how hard it got. The next 20 months were physically, mentally, and financially taxing. I was so exhausted. My appearance changed. My hair broke off. I had to cut it. I could not conceal the bags under my eyes from worry and lack of sleep. I did not recognize my reflection on some days. I was a robot. I found myself filling up my days and weeks with tasks just to keep from thinking, feeling, or allowing stillness. BUSY became my pain medication. I was walking wounded daily but too scared to slow down. BUSY was my prescription. BUSY was my cope.

We were both still trying to smile in this picture. It was our usual long treatment day. One of many.

Someone I used to know:

After we laid Keris to rest, I went back to work a week later. I told myself that I needed to be busy and that it would help me to get my mind off of things. I became busier than before.  I threw myself into my kids, their activities, our nonprofit, and anything that prevented me from slowing down. I was tired. I was empty but the thought of slowing down gave me anxiety. I took another dose of BUSY and continued to exist for another day and another day and another day.  I wasn’t ready to feel so I chose to increase the pace of my life even more than before. I had become a master of BUSY. Fast Forward to November 2017…

It has been two years since Keris passed away and four years since the diagnosis. Even now, I still can’t believe that I actually have a child that is no longer here. I find myself saying her name daily because it is my reminder that she was here and that she was real. I know now that the same BUSY that keeps me moving is the same BUSY that is high jacking the healing process. I am realizing that the same pain I tucked away in that hospital four years ago is still there and waiting for me to come face to face with it. I guess what I am saying is that life has a way of catching up with us. We cannot heal from what we do not acknowledge. It’s like saying “Hello, my name is Deidre and I lost a child and I am trying to find my way again.” There are days I feel that I should print this up on multiple shirts and wear it just to give the rest of the world a heads up to be patient with me.

Due Season:

I have literally spent the last three years struggling through the month of November. Something hit me this month though. I mean it really hit me…I decided to stop being distracted and to really start the healing process. I don’t know what it looks like or how long it is going to take. All I know is that it is time and I am open to feel. I am weak but strong at the same time. I am faithful and I know there is a divine plan for my life. I believe my days ahead are greater… but to get to real JOY I know there is no way around this process. BUSY was a temporary fix. Healing is available to those that truly want it. I am ready

The 4 Percent Club

I remember the day like it was yesterday. November 22, 2013… the day the doctor said to us, “Your daughter has a rare form of brain cancer and she has about 6 months to live.” I think everything went silent after that. Imagine coming face to face with your worst fear except you don’t get to wake up and find out that it was just a bad dream after all.  I remember asking about treatments and next steps and options only to realize that we were no longer talking about cures but instead the quality of life. That reality is still hard to swallow even now. The truth is, the more I studied, and researched, and googled… the more I kept seeing the same statistics over and over again. It was alarming. How could this be? Our kids are important? How is this possible? The harsh reality is that only 4% of all funds raised nationwide for cancer research and treatments are allocated for Pediatric Cancer and the other 96% goes towards Adult Cancers. Don’t get me wrong, ALL CANCER SUCKS, but 4%…… Enter GOING GOLD

The Journey Ahead

The days and months ahead were some of the hardest days of my life as a parent. I would often ignore my own pain because after all, my child was the one enduring treatments, chemo, ports, radiation and all of the ugly side effects of cancer. Yet, she continued to live, learn, laugh, and love every single day! These are the 4 L’s my husband always spoke about to our kids each day. I find myself clinging to this notion of days when it’s so difficult in the aftermath to just put both feet on the floor in the morning. It’s hard. We had a 20-month battle and in the end, we lost our child. Every day I think about Keris and the reality that she is physically not here. But, in spite of it all, in September, I Go GOLD! I GO GOLD to raise awareness for all of the children, parents, siblings, and loved ones that are in the midst of fighting cancer and I honor all of the angels that are now watching over us. September will forever stand out to me. Yes, it is painful but I also understand that it is necessary. Because ONE child is TOO many and kids can’t fight cancer alone

This month Nova turned 3 months. Everyone always comments about how sweet she is and that she always smiles instead of crying like most newborns. I tell them that she has been touched by an angel. I believe that with everything in my heart. I believe she knows her big sister and she has felt the love of Keris prior to coming into the world. Oddly enough Nova and Keris look almost identical when you look at their baby pictures. My husband and I were both thinking this silently but did not want to acknowledge the resemblance. One day we had the conversation because the similarities were just undeniable.

Grief is still an ongoing process that has peaks, valleys, twists, and turns. I feel blessed to have Nova because she has reminded me to love again. I remember finding out I was pregnant last July. It was one week after Keris’ first Angelversary. I was struggling and then it was as if God was saying “Deidre, I have more for you than grief.”

My life is a daily walk of joy and pain, laughter, and tears, hopes for the future and unanswered questions from the past. Through it all, it still comes down to taking life moment by moment and one day at a time! Here is a picture of Nova Raye. You can see that God sent us a visual reminder of our Sweet Angel! Be Blessed today #pwc#loveneverends