Elefantino
09-18-2014, 07:26 AM
My mom died last night.
She had been diagnosed as terminal with a recurrence of cancer back in February. She was given a few months. Strong woman that she was, she lasted seven. The last month was the hardest, particularly the last week. She had been bed-ridden since Sunday night, mostly unresponsive. My wife and son were with me at her bedside, at home, when she passed. She was 94.
I've written about my mom on this forum before. She was diagnosed with stage III ovarian in 1999 (at age 79) and went into the hospital the night before the opening stage of the Tour. She stayed there for three weeks post-op. Each afternoon we'd wait for the highlights on ESPN and on Sunday the CBS shows. My passion for cycling soon infected the rest of the oncology ward and the nurses and even some other patients would ask me how "the cancer guy" was doing. My mom got stronger every day and was released the day before Paris. We watched the Sunday broadcast on CBS together, at home, both of us crying with joy.
Cut to two years later. My dad was diagnosed with the throat cancer that would eventually kill him and I thought it'd be a good idea to raise money in his name for the Lance Armstrong Foundation. I also told the foundation of my mom's story of how Armstrong had become an inspiration. They were so captivated that they flew her out and she spoke, briefly, at one of the events. (And it's where she met her "new friends, Davis and Connie.") When my dad died she thought it would be a good idea for donations to be made in his name to the LAF. They had lots of friends. LOTS of friends. We got lots and lots of donation cards in the mail. She proudly wore her Livestrong bracelet and the picture of her with LA occupied a place of honor in her home (until Oprah, when she took it down, calling him "that jerk").
She went with me to the Tour of California a few years back, to the time trial in Palo Alto, meeting Flux (Justin Spinelli), Dave Z and others. She loved it. She always loved new things, new adventures. She went parasailing and swimming with the dolphins in Key Largo ... when she was 85.
She wore a different pin on her back right shoulder every day. She said she met the nicest people that way, and friends at church would always make her turn around to see which one she had on that Sunday. We counted the pins yesterday: She had more than 100. We plan to have them on a tray at the memorial and every woman in attendance gets one, to be worn on her own back right shoulder. I hope we have enough. Such was my mom's wealth in friends that we may not.
I write this both to honor her (as ineffectively as I can) and to thank this forum for being a much-needed distraction the last few months and days. We had given up our lives in Florida last year to move back to California to be with family and my mom lived with us. I had hoped for more time together. I cherish the time that we did have.
She had been diagnosed as terminal with a recurrence of cancer back in February. She was given a few months. Strong woman that she was, she lasted seven. The last month was the hardest, particularly the last week. She had been bed-ridden since Sunday night, mostly unresponsive. My wife and son were with me at her bedside, at home, when she passed. She was 94.
I've written about my mom on this forum before. She was diagnosed with stage III ovarian in 1999 (at age 79) and went into the hospital the night before the opening stage of the Tour. She stayed there for three weeks post-op. Each afternoon we'd wait for the highlights on ESPN and on Sunday the CBS shows. My passion for cycling soon infected the rest of the oncology ward and the nurses and even some other patients would ask me how "the cancer guy" was doing. My mom got stronger every day and was released the day before Paris. We watched the Sunday broadcast on CBS together, at home, both of us crying with joy.
Cut to two years later. My dad was diagnosed with the throat cancer that would eventually kill him and I thought it'd be a good idea to raise money in his name for the Lance Armstrong Foundation. I also told the foundation of my mom's story of how Armstrong had become an inspiration. They were so captivated that they flew her out and she spoke, briefly, at one of the events. (And it's where she met her "new friends, Davis and Connie.") When my dad died she thought it would be a good idea for donations to be made in his name to the LAF. They had lots of friends. LOTS of friends. We got lots and lots of donation cards in the mail. She proudly wore her Livestrong bracelet and the picture of her with LA occupied a place of honor in her home (until Oprah, when she took it down, calling him "that jerk").
She went with me to the Tour of California a few years back, to the time trial in Palo Alto, meeting Flux (Justin Spinelli), Dave Z and others. She loved it. She always loved new things, new adventures. She went parasailing and swimming with the dolphins in Key Largo ... when she was 85.
She wore a different pin on her back right shoulder every day. She said she met the nicest people that way, and friends at church would always make her turn around to see which one she had on that Sunday. We counted the pins yesterday: She had more than 100. We plan to have them on a tray at the memorial and every woman in attendance gets one, to be worn on her own back right shoulder. I hope we have enough. Such was my mom's wealth in friends that we may not.
I write this both to honor her (as ineffectively as I can) and to thank this forum for being a much-needed distraction the last few months and days. We had given up our lives in Florida last year to move back to California to be with family and my mom lived with us. I had hoped for more time together. I cherish the time that we did have.