This is hard to do. My Mother died a year ago. Sept. 23, 2000. Today (Sept 27,2001) it seem like yesterday. she started to feel ill the early part of the year. She said she did not feel too good in Febuary. She was strong and said it was probably nothing. The nothing got worse and in May she went to the doctor. I had told her several times before that she ought to go . Mother wanted to go somewhere or do someting for someone else. Everyone loved her, she made friends everywhere she went. I would tease her and say she knew the whole town. So in June she found out she need surgery and drove herself to my house two hours away.(this was on a Saturday) She arrived at my door looking all yellow and I could tell she was in pain. Her Dr. up in Payson had given her Tylenol 3 but she didn't want to get hooked on drugs and wouldn't take them until she almost doubled over in pain. When she started to get physically ill on Sunday, i called the Dr. here and insisted they not wait till Monday to put her in the hospital for the surgery. I drove her to the hospital and we waited and waited. She had the surgery Monday as scedualled. During surgery the four doctors working on her found cancer spots in her liver but the tummor started in the pancreas. I thought I would pass out when the doctor told me the news. My mother, the bravest, the healthiest person, the best mother I could have asked for was going to die sooner then we thought. We used to say she would live to be 100. She tried chemo but that made her ill. She got worse fast. The cancer had spread to her spleen and into her brain, changing her. Everyone said that Emily was too trusting. I often warned her about picking up strangers on the road or loaning money to certain people I won't mention. Well, In september she started saying that the people caring for her were trying to kill her. I tried to calm her when this happened. Sometimes it took hours to get her calm enough that she would except a seditive. We both thought we had a year to be together after the surgery. Three months after the surgery she took her last breath with me right by her side talking to her and singing to her. I can't begin to say how much I miss mymother. Just four and a half months after Mother's death,our house burned. All the things she had given me...gone. Only memories. Not always good ones. I remember her and the pain she was in and the terrified look on her face.
Frances
