Nicole and Lisa’s Story

It was always, Sally and her girls. To say that we were momma’s girls, would be an understatement. Since the moment we entered this world, she poured all of her love into us. As much as we love our father, the three of us (Sally, Nicole, and Lisa) shared an incredibly strong bond.

To know our mother was to love her. She was kind, empathetic, self-less, the farthest thing from materialistic, and beautiful inside and out. She was a loving wife, daughter, sister, friend, but most importantly, mother. She devoted her life to her two girls and we never were able to truly appreciate and understand what she did until we became mothers.

Our mother went above and beyond to make our childhood happy. She had silly traditions, always made us laugh, never missed a single event for us even when she went back to working outside the home, she cooked dinner every single night, coached our sports, and never denied us anything (within reason of course!). She wore so many hats and did it seamlessly. On top of all that, our mother was drop dead gorgeous. She had long, beautiful blonde hair and a petite figure. She was the total package.

In 2007, our mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. At the time, our parents kept it a secret from us – for an entire year. Eventually when we found out, we were resentful towards our parents for keeping such a life altering event, a secret. However, we get it now. Our mother did not want our life to change, she didn’t want us to worry. She wanted us to be kids. On the night of Lisa’s eighth-grade graduation, our parents finally told us about our mother’s diagnosis. I will never forget the moment she sat us down in the kitchen and told us she had cancer, she was going to lose her hair, but everything was going to be okay. That summer, she began six rounds of chemotherapy. I had no idea what to expect after her first chemotherapy session. She handled it like the superhuman she was. Our grandma would come over that day and take us shopping to take our minds off of what was happening. When I came home that day, my mother seemed perfectly fine. But as each session progressed, it took more and more out of her. At this point, I was thirteen years old. It was so difficult to comprehend how sick my mom was. I hated how powerless I felt and how I didn’t know what to do to help the person I loved most in this world. The night before every chemotherapy session, I prayed that God would do something bad to me to take away her pain. It was heart wrenching watching her lose weight and lose the beautiful, long blonde locks she loved so much. Regardless of how horrible I know she must have felt, she came home from every chemotherapy session with a smile on her face. She never wanted us to see her in pain. She truly was a real life super-hero.

While my sister, Lisa, was finishing up her eighth-grade year, I was ending my high school career. I am five years older than Lisa, but that didn’t mean I understood too much more. Being eighteen years old, I was legally an adult, but I was not ready for what that truly meant. When my parents told us about my mom’s breast cancer, I felt like I grew up even quicker than most high school graduates. Thankfully I had picked a college nearby and lived at home. My schedule was a little more flexible so when I was not at college in class or with my friends, I was able to spend time with my mom. She would have her chemotherapy sessions and we spent time together when I was home from class. In the early days of her treatment, she would be fine but as the sessions got more intense, it was difficult for her to bounce back. Thankfully living at home, I was able to help my mom way more than if I had gone away to college.     

Following her chemotherapy session, she had a double mastectomy. The surgery took a lot out of her, but to no surprise she acted like she was completely fine. That summer, she was home on disability recovering from her surgery and my sister, Nicole and I were on summer break. We had the BEST summer. We watched all of our guilty pleasure shows – Million Dollar Matchmaker, Making the Band, Blow Out, Gilmore Girls, and Real Housewives of New Jersey to name a few.

A few weeks later and after many nerve wracking scans and tests, we received the news everyone in our family was praying for since she became she – she was in REMISSION. She began volunteering at Lisa’s high school before returning to work. Lisa and our mom spent SO much time together during this time – our car rides to school belting out our favorite songs during the morning commute were my favorite. Her hair was finally growing back and we found out that this blonde babe was not actually a real blonde J. Her new growth hair was curly, dark brown, and beautiful. But in true Sally fashion, she wanted to be back to her blonde roots. We used box dye and dyed her hair in our bathroom. To our surprise, her hair turned fire engine red. While this was not ideal, we busted out laughing and embraced her red locks. We lovingly nick named her “Norby” because she looked like Chuck Norris. We had the best summer filled with full belly laughs, vacations, so much quality family time, and the summer of NORBY!

And then a few weeks later, the gut punch came. Her cancer had come back and spread to different body parts. These next few months seemed like they passed in seconds. She began chemotherapy again, but the cancer was progressing rapidly. On the last day of my freshman year of high school, my grandma came to pick me up early. I instantly knew that something was not right. My grandma told me she was taking me to the hospital to see my mom. By the time I got to the hospital, my mom was already in a coma. The cancer had overtaken her body. I never got to say goodbye. I feel like my subconscious has blacked out this day from my mind because of how traumatizing it was. As silly as it sounds, I never thought my mom was going to die. She had overcome so much and was so resilient.

On the day our mom died, Lisa was in school, Nicole was already on summer break from college. I had been taking a summer course. I will never forget that morning. My mom had gone to the hospital before to have tests and things like that done. I remember helping her get ready to leave. I do not know why but I specifically remember helping her put her shoes on and saying goodbye thinking she’ll be back later. Unfortunately, it was not that simple. Nobody was explaining exactly what was happening, but that we needed to go to the hospital. My mom had been in a room and was attached to machinery that was keeping her alive. I remember being overwhelmed with emotions and sitting outside the hospital room just bawling my eyes out. I could not handle thinking this was the end. I remember one of the nurses telling me that my mom had said she fought as hard as she did for her girls. She had then been moved to a hospice room. Everything felt like a blur and it moved so quickly. The nurses had asked us to leave the room to do something, what that something is I could not tell you, and very gently told us that my mom had passed. My mom knew we were all there but in true Sally fashion, she had tried to protect us to the very end.

After her passing, everyone checked in. I felt like I was under a microscope. The phone never stopped ringing, Facebook messages, people stopping by to drop off food and offer their condolences.  A few weeks later, my father, Nicole, and I left to go on what was supposed to be a family vacation with our mom back to Italy. I cried the entire flight there because it was so unfair to me that she wasn’t a part of this and that she would never be a part of a family vacation again.

Life after her passing was far from easy. She missed our proms, graduations, college visits, engagements, weddings, and birth of our children. Lisa was five years younger than me when my mom passed. I emphasize that because she was so young to not have my mom there for her. I always felt a sense of guilt. I had my mom for my sweet sixteen, my mom braved driving around with me, and other teenage milestones. Lisa missed those experiences, and I could absolutely never replace my mom, but I did my best to make sure she had those moments even if it was with me. At twenty years old, being the oldest I felt a responsibility to step up and take care of my dad and sister. I feel like to an extent that helped me prepare to be a future mom. I look at my daughter now and think back to my mom. I understand even more why she was so protective of us. She wanted us to be kids and not let something heavy like cancer change us too much, too quickly. Unfortunately, seeing your loved one go through that is something that does change you. We definitely grew up a little more quickly but also gave us a different perspective. Tell your mom you love her everyday and appreciate that she is physically there.

We truly never appreciated all that my mother did for us until we became moms. Becoming a mother opened up so much grief for me. I yearn for my mom all of the time. How was I as a baby? Did I sleep through the night? I get so jealous when I see a young mom out with their mom or taking “generation” pictures. The most difficult thing I have dealt with is that my children will grow up never physically knowing this magnificent person. My children are not at the age where they understand that their grandmother is in Heaven, but I will always keep her spirit alive through our memories. Our mother is the reason behind every silly tradition, dance party, special meal, made-up lullaby good night. I feel so connected to my mother in a different way now. I am eternally grateful for the childhood she gave me. All I hope is that I can give that to my kids.

I will never understand why my mom had to leave this world so soon. There is so much I wish I could thank my mom for and never got the chance to. Thank you for never failing to put a smile on my face. Thank you for all of the unseen sacrifices you made for me as a child. Thank you for giving me a childhood worth raving about. Thank you for making the most of every moment with us. Thank you for teaching us resilience and how to push through the hard times and appreciate the good times. Thank you for teaching us to live in the moment. Thank you for always providing while teaching us that material things don’t matter. Thank you for always being my safe place and teaching us to be kind. Thank you for all the struggles you went through, but always made it about us. Thank you for giving us the tools to be the mothers we are today.

Thank you for everything that I was never able to appreciate as a child, but see now as a mother. You were a superhuman and I am forever in awe of the person you were. The struggles you faced with a smile on your face. I will forever keep your memory alive through your grandchildren and will strive every day to be the mother and wife you were.

Our mother is the reason behind everything we do. She is our inspiration, our reason “why,” and our motivation to be the best versions of ourselves. We recently created an Instagram page to be a creative outlet for ourselves and other moms, to be a platform for other moms and ourselves for non-judgment, to be honest about the craziness of motherhood, connect with other moms, create mom-to-mom and post partum inspiration, and overall to bring a smile to someone’s face. If you would to follow along our journey on Instagram, our account is @Two.Soul.Sistas!

Hug your loved ones tight, tomorrow is never promised. Be the things you loved most about the people who are gone. We love you forever and ever, to the moon and back Mommy. We miss you every single day. Until we meet again.

Xo, Nicole + Lisa