Sheila

My Mother is dying.

There's no way around it:  she's been fighting cancer and the cancer is winning.  She was, after all, diagnosed with 4th stage colon cancer back in October of 2005...she really should have died a long time ago.  She's playing with house money at this point.  Doesn't make this any easier.

We got the word last week from her doctors that they were going to stop her therapy.  The good folks at Northwestern Medical have deemed that her treatment is doing more harm than good at this stage of her cancer.  They insist they are not giving up on her; they are just stopping the treatment.  With the typical "For now" caveat that gives hope to the family but at the same time, we know the score.

She will die.  Sooner rather than later.

Sheila is in good spirits, mind you.  Obviously, she doesn't want to die.  Who does?   But she knows how lucky she's been.  She has 5 kids that have gone on to live pretty amazing lives, all marrying "up", as my sister put it, and all raised in the reflection of Don and Sheila.  She has 9 grand kids that have filled her refrigerator with all sorts of cute pictures and photos.  She has a set of brothers that has assisted her every step of the way with visits, occasional dollars and general Irish levity that you just can't find anywhere else.  She has a wonderful community at Benet Academy, the High School at which she's worked for the last 31 years; they've been so good to her and us through all of this drama that it almost regains my faith in the Catholic church.  Almost. 

She has left her mark on so many students at the Academy that when I put out word that we were having a celebration for my Mom surviving cancer for 5 years, I was inundated with messages and emails from former classmates and kids that graduated years after me, most of whom I did not know.  People felt the need to celebrate her life and with good reason.

But this weekend will be different.  Most of her family will be in town for the 4th of July celebration in Lisle, Illinois.  We will eat Bubba Burgers, drink copious amounts of wine, laugh and watch fireworks glisten in the sky.  We will all hug and say our goodbyes on Monday but one goodbye will have an air of finality that the others lack. 

But we have some time left.  There will be time for more laughter, more hugs, more music, more champagne, more Ned Devine.

And damned if we're not going to enjoy that time.