levijfoster's  Instagram Profile

levijfoster

@levijfoster

Add to circle
  • Small
  • Medium
  • Large
- This time last year my six siblings and I headed home to Alaska to be with our mother as she battled pancreatic cancer. It was the first time I had seen mom in person since starting her rigorous chemo treatment. I'll never forget getting home, running upstairs to find her patiently waiting in her rocking chair with a big grin on her face. I walked over and hugged her. We both started to cry as I held her emaciated body. She whispered she loved me and I tried to return the sentiment through my tears. We cried for many reasons but overwhelmingly because two months prior she was a healthy active woman and I think we both knew what was rapidly approaching. We excepted it there together. Since coming out my mother and I have shared a very honest relationship. No secrets or hiding. She knew with me she didn't have to practice the cultural sugar coating and conversational waltzing so common within her mormon community. Until our sobbing I wanted to hide the reality that she was dying. But I had to respect and participate in her relief as we acknowledged the inevitable without guilt for looking outside the expectations of an unrealistic recovery. Those of you who've lost a loved one know we never forget them. We turn to look for them in their habitual places. We look through our phones to call them. Their absence does not observe time. Though my mother passed away 9 months ago, this photo still feels like yesterday. Shaving the head of the woman that birthed, dressed and fed my sister (shown) and I was beyond a vulnerable experience and especially for mom. As difficult as watching her body fail her was, somehow I'm starting to see her last days as beautiful instead of just painful. I can only hope that this realization is unoriginal and part of a process toward a new perspective. ❀️
- This time last year my six siblings and I headed home to Alaska to be with our mother as she battled pancreatic cancer. It was the first time I had seen mom in person since starting her rigorous chemo treatment. I& #39;ll never forget getting home, running upstairs to find her patiently waiting in her rocking chair with a big grin on her face. I walked over and hugged her. We both started to cry as I held her emaciated body. She whispered she loved me and I tried to return the sentiment through my tears. We cried for many reasons but overwhelmingly because two months prior she was a healthy active woman and I think we both knew what was rapidly approaching. We excepted it there together. Since coming out my mother and I have shared a very honest relationship. No secrets or hiding. She knew with me she didn& #39;t have to practice the cultural sugar coating and conversational waltzing so common within her mormon community. Until our sobbing I wanted to hide the reality that she was dying. But I had to respect and participate in her relief as we acknowledged the inevitable without guilt for looking outside the expectations of an unrealistic recovery. Those of you who& #39;ve lost a loved one know we never forget them. We turn to look for them in their habitual places. We look through our phones to call them. Their absence does not observe time. Though my mother passed away 9 months ago, this photo still feels like yesterday. Shaving the head of the woman that birthed, dressed and fed my sister (shown) and I was beyond a vulnerable experience and especially for mom. As difficult as watching her body fail her was, somehow I& #39;m starting to see her last days as beautiful instead of just painful. I can only hope that this realization is unoriginal and part of a process toward a new perspective. ❀️
- This time last year my six siblings and I headed home to Alaska to be with our mother as she battled pancreatic cancer. It was the first time I had seen mom in person since starting her rigorous chemo treatment. I'll never forget getting home, running upstairs to find her patiently waiting in her rocking chair with a big grin on her face. I walked over and hugged her. We both started to cry as I held her emaciated body. She whispered she loved me and I tried to return the sentiment through my tears. We cried for many reasons but overwhelmingly because two months prior she was a healthy active woman and I think we both knew what was rapidly approaching. We excepted it there together. Since coming out my mother and I have shared a very honest relationship. No secrets or hiding. She knew with me she didn't have to practice the cultural sugar coating and conversational waltzing so common within her mormon community. Until our sobbing I wanted to hide the reality that she was dying. But I had to respect and participate in her relief as we acknowledged the inevitable without guilt for looking outside the expectations of an unrealistic recovery. Those of you who've lost a loved one know we never forget them. We turn to look for them in their habitual places. We look through our phones to call them. Their absence does not observe time. Though my mother passed away 9 months ago, this photo still feels like yesterday. Shaving the head of the woman that birthed, dressed and fed my sister (shown) and I was beyond a vulnerable experience and especially for mom. As difficult as watching her body fail her was, somehow I'm starting to see her last days as beautiful instead of just painful. I can only hope that this realization is unoriginal and part of a process toward a new perspective. ❀️

This product uses the Instagram API but is not endorsed or certified by Instagram. All Instagramβ„’ logos and trademarks displayed on this application are property of Instagram.