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Growing up

I remember when I was little, my mom cross stitched a picture for me. It had my name, the meaning of my name "Wealthy One" and a scripture. I can still picture it hanging on my bedroom wall. I grew up pretty poor. In a tiny house, in a small town. A monthly trip to Taco Mayo was a splurge to us. We ate a lot of beans, tators, and cornbread. Through it all, I always felt so lucky. I had the greatest mom in the whole world. My mom was always my homeroom teacher at school. All the boys were in love with her and all the girls wished she was their mom. I may not have had the nicest shoes but what I had was better, i had the perfect mom. A lot of times, my friends came to see my mom instead of me. She was so easy to talk to and she always had the most comforting advice. She used to babysit kids, one girl used to get mad at my mom and accuse her of "loving Jessica more than me!". That was MY mom. I was proud. My sister and I used to fight over who got to tell mom a
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Wednesday April 5, 2017

It was normal Wednesday afternoon. My husband was working in Poland. I was finishing up dinner about to head to my Wednesday night yoga class. A neighbor friend was going to come with me for the first time. I didn't know her very well. In the middle of my daily chaos my phone rang. It was my sister, she was crying. She told me that our stepdad had called Bo and told him that they wanted them to meet them later that night.  Carisa had been at work. She had tried to call my mom but my mom's phone was going straight to vm. She called my other sister and Joe had told her the same thing, to meet at their house later. We knew it was bad. My mom had went to the ER a little over a week ago with shoulder pain. She thought it was her gall bladder. They had found a mass on her liver. They told her it was an abscess but when they tried to drain it, they found out that it was solid. They ended up sending her home. She went to her regular doctor who asked a few questions like "Have
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