My mother, Virginia Mendoza, passed away today (well, yesterday) after her eight month long battle with leukemia. I'm having the hardest time in the world trying to let that fact sink in. It's unfair, y'know? Not that I would want this to happen to anyone else, but that feeling of "why us?" keeps coming back to me. I'm trying to be strong though... In the hospital room, where most of the family on the island was, everyone was telling me to be strong through all this. I intend to live up to that. It's rough, everything that's happened so far, but we've gotta stick together.

It was today that I also realized that in her passing, there is a new life about to start. My nephews, Myles and David, are going to be baptized on Sunday. We were all reluctant on doing it, but my Mom was adamant about having the baptism. It's what she would've wanted.

I'd like to believe that my family deals with these situations differently than others. A lot of us at home have the same sense of humor, and that's what kept us up in our spirits today. We thought about all the pranks Mom pulled, and all the jokes she'd tell. I loved that so much. She's where my cynical sense of humor came from.

I feel that typing out about the whole week leading up to this will help me feel better about it. I've been keeping this to myself for so long, and I feel bad for leaving a lot of you in the dark. It's just... tough for me to tell something like this. I hope, if you're reading this, that you don't feel I've left you in the dark. Believe me, it's likely I would've trusted you enough to say, but was too withdrawn and worried to bring it up.

She came home from a one-and-a-half month long stay from the Jewish General Hospital on Monday. I had gotten word of her coming home from my Dad. He had told me that after all the chemotherapy, there was nothing left for them to do, and that they would stop the treatment and send her home. Naturally, I broke down. Welling up the tears for the few months, trying to keep my chin up, I burst like a dam. But I still kept hope, because that was all I could do, along with keeping her company.

When I arrived at the hospital, my sister and her boyfriend were there with her, watching Hell's Kitchen. I'm glad I went, because that night, we were laughing and just... doing what we do, yeah? That night, we were up, my sister and I, along with our cousin who came along afterwards, and we were cleaning the house in preparation for her arrival that morning.

Tuesday came, and she was back home. As the week passed, her condition gradually worsened. We had visitors coming in and out of the house, Mom's friends, family, co-workers, everyone. On Thursday, she went over to meet with her doctor at the Jewish General. It was then that she recieved the news that her condition had become what was essentially terminal. Up until that night though, she was in good shape. She was feeling good and everything. Mom even got to see her granddaughter and grandsons. Her spirits were lifted at the sight of that, and I smiled at the sight.

That night, and pushing into morning, her fever started to rise up dangerously. It was that afternoon that she refused to swallow the Tylenol and she wouldn't speak to us, that we called her doctor at the Cancer ward at the Jewish General. She wasn't responding to us, and we had no idea what to do, so they set up a room for her. We had to get an ambulance for her, because there wasn't any way we could transport her on our own.

We called as many people in the family as we could to meet us there. At the hospital, my mom repeatedly tried removing the oxygen mask. She also pulled her hand away from us, and tried to ward us off. Why she was doing this, we didn't know, but we assumed it was discomfort. Not long after, her doctor, Dr. Caplan, took myself, my father, and my sister aside, and told us the grim news. The possibility of her surviving was non-existant, and at the very least, we could have a few days with her. Not wanting to think it over, the group of us, about twenty of our relatives, went out for a breather. It was while we were gone, at 6:40 PM, that my mother passed away. We all regretted not being there, until we realized what she was trying to tell us in pushing us away.

See, my mother was always the stubborn, do-it-yourself type. In this case, she didn't want us around to see her like that. She was a strong woman, the type who would think about everyone else before herself, a selfless person. Mom didn't want us to see her when she passed away, so she let us go. She was even aware that we had left, we had told her that we'd get dinner and come back. I'm also convinced that she had subconciously made us stay away until it was over. We all considered going back in. My sister needed another smoke to calm herself, and I needed to take out the trash and feed the dogs before going back. We were both about to head inside before having these second thoughts, and it's so strange that we both decided otherwise. In the end, it was better for her. It's what she would've wanted.

I spent the next few hours chilling with family. We had a toast to all the good times with her, in her memory. I can't help but feel worried though, about the future, but I know we can pull through. If she taught me anything at all, it's to be assertive and strong in a stressful time.

The viewing will be on Monday, this week. We've already started gathering pictures of us and her together to set up. I've cried so much today, but I'm still keeping myself together.

Rest In Peace, Mom. I'm gonna make you proud.
1948-2006