One month ago, my mommy had gotten diagnosed with diffused large b cell lymphoma. Two weeks ago, she began her first chemo cycle. Thirty eight hours ago my beloved mommy passed away. She handled chemo like a trouper, didn’t complain or ask for anything. For several days after chemo ended, she felt fine. Then the fatigue set in and things unraveled from there. On Tuesday she ended up in the ER and eventually ICU as everything got worse. On Friday, early in the morning despite putting up an insanely hard fight given how sick she became, my mother went back to her first family: her mother, father and older sister.
You may ask me how I can write right now. With a great amount of difficulty but full clarity of mind. I am the younger of two, and the daughter and I don’t think I grasped even the millimeter of how much I love my mother until now, how close I was with her. This blog is important to me and I feel like I’ve bonded with you all to the point where I can share my real life with you. My mom is (and I think I am going to be saying is for a long time) a very private, old fashioned person, I don’t think she understood what a blog really was and I seem to recall her pretty much rolling her eyes at me when I told her about it. But she cared about what made me happy and having this outlet makes me happy. She had the same attitude towards Facebook.
She instilled the love of reading and books in me which led me to this blog in the first place. As many kids, I didn’t share myself fully with mom and though I know she was often hurt by it, she understood. She raised me to be loyal and independent, stubborn and private like she was. I wasn’t always the easiest daughter but I know she always knew how much I loved her and how much she meant to me. On her last day, I started reading to her from a book she shared with me as a child, a book we both read as kids. And I know she was happy to hear me read to her, maybe she thought it was cheesy but I know she heard me and it comforts me that we could share this even when she was asleep.
Oh my. I am so so sorry.
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Beautiful words Eugenia; very sad, very evocative
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A hug, Eugenia, in this difficult moment. She and you will stay together forever. You did great writing this beautiful post to honor your Mum.
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May you continue to be comforted by fond memories. Xo
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Oh my, I am so sorry!!! I know there was a bad day…but I didn’t know things had turned so quickly. I have no words, except that I want you and yours to know that you’re foremost in my thoughts.
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Oh Eugenia…I was so sad to read this. May you be surrounded by friends and family and lots of love. And do keep writing…journaling after my mother died (almost 14 years ago now) saved my sanity. – Karen
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Beautifully written. I’m so sorry… sending you hugs.
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I am so sorry for your mother’s passing, Eugenia. She sounds a courageous lady.
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Many, many condolences. Her memory is most certainly a blessing.
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Sorry to hear about your mother dear! Please take good care of yourself. She’ll always want you to be happy.
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My sincere condolences. Thank you for your sharing.
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My sincerest condoleances
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Big hugs !
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So sad to hear this. Writing can be incredibly therapeutic so I urge you to continue writing. Stay strong !
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I’m very sorry to hear this and send condolences to you. Your words are beautiful.
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Thank you.
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I am sorry to hear that – Refuah Sheleima to your mom!
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Thank you. Time doesn’t heal exactly as much as it makes it easier to look forward. I miss her each and every day.
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As I miss my father – his first Yohrzeit will be right before Pesach. It is very hard!
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I’m so sorry! These are all trying times.
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Yes, for all of us – thank you.
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Hello, Eugenia?
I am a descendant of Shargorod. In fact, I grew up in the house my Shargorod grandfather died in. That house is in Middle Village, Queens, NYC. He was Elia Forman 1890-1951 ; I am Ellen Forman Muraskin, 1953 – , and I remember getting postcards addressed to Elia from the Shargoroder Landsmanschaft (home town society).
Fascinating to hear that Shargorod was spared the Nazi onslaught. And that it came under Romanian rule. Could that explain why the papers we have — Elia’s and my grandmother Ita’s visa applications of 1923 — were from Bucharest?
Anyway, pleased to meet you. I’ve actually visited the town my mother’s mother came from in Galicia — but not Shargorod or Kopaigorod — Ita’s home town. Maybe I can learn more about them from you?
Would be happy to establish contact. The web address given below — my blog — also contains a 13-post description of my roots trip to Przeworsk, Poland, taken in 2015.
Kol toov, zai mir gezunt —
Ellen
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