Maria Mendola

“My mother was diagnosed the summer I was going into fourth grade. The night she was diagnosed, she sat me down in the bed and read me a book about a bear mom explaining her illness to her children so that I could understand what was happening. Soon after, the stomach cancer progressed to stage 4. I remember going into the hospital every single day. Then she came home for a couple months and she was doing better. But then there was an incident where she fell asleep on the couch and she was not waking up. We tried to get rubbing alcohol to waft it up her nostrils and scream at her and finally we called an ambulance. Without the adrenaline shot someone in the ambulance gave her she would have died then. It was weird because I was never that religious and I still am not, but that night I remember crawling into my brother's room and kneeling in front of the cross and just praying that she would make it. From that incident she was transferred to another hospital. When she was sick she only had like 10% of her stomach, so she would always throw up, but she was only throwing up bile. I remember my dad shaving her head in the bathroom downstairs. I remember times when she couldn't even get up the stairs so my dad would have to carry her. One of the more traumatic memories was when, maybe because of the medication or because she wasn't feeling well that day, she just couldn't remember what my name was. When she was doing good and she was home she used to be so happy that she lost weight. I used to think of her eyes all the time, but not her healthy eyes, the sunken in ones from her skinny, sick face. And then one day I remember speaking on the phone with her because I was watching Grease, her favorite movie, and I was so excited. That was the last time I spoke to her.

 

I don’t really have many memories of my mom being healthy. My family always says she would be so proud of me, and it’s so hard to tell them that this woman they’re talking about is kind of a stranger in my life. My entire childhood was filled with memories of just her cancer and death, and there were so many things I struggled with as a child that I didn’t recognize until now were caused by that trauma. There were days when I was so afraid to go to school because I was afraid my dad would die in the time I was gone. Back in March, my dad got Covid, and I had to be the one to take him to the hospital, sit in the waiting room till 6 o’clock in the morning, make sure he took his medication, make dinner, and handle my classes on top of all that. At one point I almost completely lost it, but I’m so proud of how well I was able to handle it. I’ve always felt so much pressure on myself because I know how much my family sacrificed for me, and as the only female in the house I’ve had to take on the role of a mother. So I had to mature very early. I’m the second person in my family to go to college. I have been working and paying my own bills since I was 15. I’m the one who cleans the house and takes care of everyone. But recently I’ve learned to prioritize myself. I’ve learned how to say no to people and set boundaries and just let myself cry sometimes. It’s taken me a long time to get to this point, but most importantly, I’ve learned to love myself. I’m a completely different Maria now than I was when I was 9, and even than a year ago.” (October 2020)