And another angel gets her wings.

Dear Mom,

Tonight, I am heartbroken
for the loss of someone I never met
She was an answer to my prayers
She helped replace earlier grief, with hope
Those dreams have shattered

Tonight, I am angry
at the disease that has already taken my world away
It stole my parent
It now has stolen someone part of me
"Leukemia" has gone too far. 

Tonight, I am confused
because this was never supposed to happen
I didn't know she wasn't recovering
I didn't anticipate this kind of pain
Shock doesn't begin to cover it

Tonight, I am numb
because this all too overwhelming
I know I added time to her to her life
I know I have made many impacts
Soon I will see this, but for now I will grieve. 




Rest in paradise, my dear bone marrow recipient. I always dreamed of meeting you, with your whole family. I never thought this day would come so soon when I would have to mourn your loss. I cannot imagine what your family is going through so close to the holidays (assuming this happened recently.) I am sorry you were not able to win your battle. 

I hope you and my recipient are able to meet in Heaven, mom. Although it hurts that this disease has affected me, and people in general, so much.... I know that she is no longer suffering. If she wasn't able to win her battle, then it was her time to be relieved of the pain she had been going through. I know that. And I am grateful. 

I love you, Mom. Today's news has made me miss you more than ever. I wish you were here to comfort me. At one point when I was crying tonight, I blew up into full on sobs; old grief creeping up on me, old feelings returning. I know in either case, there was nothing I could do. Your health was in no way my control. It was up to fate what would happen, and unfortunately it was not and ending anyone expected. I wish I could change it, but I can't. 




Love you, Mom. Please help me get through this. 



                Love your babydoll, 
                Tessy Loo Loo

Small dream grows: the road to the donor drive.

Dear Mom,

"There's nothing more life changing than saving a life."
"I'm committed to saving lives."
"Being a donor forever binds you."
"Love ties people together"
"I am forever bound to something that's bigger than myself"
"Committed to donate, committed to save a life."

These are just some of the ideas from a brainstorming sesh between Ashlyn and me, for the artwork she is donating to my donor drive. Donor drive? Yes, my dream is finally becoming a reality. On January 11th, I am holding an event to sign people up for Be the Match. 

It's crazy to think that this time two years ago, I had barely signed up for the registry. It was more like a bucket list thing. I never thought I would actually get matched to someone. 

Now here I am, trying to study for finals while organizing a donor drive, with the help of the mayor of Hollister and Robert Guerrero. I have the help of many local donors and volunteers, and the support of so many people. This is going to be INSANE. Insanely GREAT. 

I mean come one, is this real life?! 

I am so lucky to be from such a loving and generous community. I have tons of donors, like how Taunya is going to be crocheting like crazy, Tina's trying to get one of her Sharks photographs autographed, SBSC is donating a membership basket, Lindsay is donating a gift certificate for her cupcakes and is also making cupcakes for the actual event... and now Janell with Oragami Owl Jewelry is going to do an online jewelry party with me, where half the proceeds go toward the drive! 

My biggest fear is that people won't show up to the event. I can spread the word and talk about it all I want. But people actually taking the time to attend, and make that decision to sign up, that's a different story. All I can do is push push push, and hope for the best. 

And once again, you are my inspiration for all the crazy things that I do. Like running for philanthropy coordinator for AGD... so there's another path of opportunities. :) 

Love you mom. Forever and ever. 

                Love your babydoll,

                Tessy Loo Loo

Since it's Nancy's birthday tomorrow.

Dear Mom,

So I haven't written in awhile because things have been crazy busy. Junior year is kicking my butt. 

I thought I would tribute this entry to a certain person's birthday tomorrow. Why not? 

I remember when the two of you started getting closer when I was in about the 4th grade. Danny got

me into doing theatre, and it was during my first show that you guys started spending a lot of time together. As Danny and I would hang out and cause trouble in the empty rehearsal room (which is now a furniture store, by the way), all you moms would be sewing away townspeople and native american costumes. We were then hanging out because of 4H, parents club meetings, and then began the never ending shopping trips. So many car trips happened, to Gilroy for dinner, or seeing plays together. The two of you were so different, yet so the same. You guys would enjoy ganging up on me, danny, or both of us simultaneously. We would give Danny rides to school, I would spend summers at the shop by his house, Nancy drove me places. A lot of it blurs together, into an embedded memory of the dynamic duo that I hold so close in my heart.

Now it's Fall of my junior year of college, and things have changed so much. One of the biggest changes wasn't so much a change, but an improvement, or growth: my ever-growing love and respect for this amazing woman. I have many places I like to call home, whether it's all of Hollister, being with my family, back roads, the granada theatre, etc. But I have to say that having Nancy as an extended momma is an entire definition of Home for me. When I'm with her, I feel you with me. She makes me feel loved, safe, supported, and complete. 

I could say so many things about this woman to show why I am proud to call her my momma. I am happy that I've gotten to perform with her on stage. I am thankful she has constantly given me rides to various places these past 11 years. I am forever grateful for her taking care of me and being there with me through our shared time of tragedy. Even though she was missing her best friend and hurting, she still putting my needs first. I cannot describe in sufficient words how proud of her I am for making the decision to make healthier choices, which led her to lose an incredibly impressive amount of weight, leading her to register for Be the Match. All of these things and more make me grateful to have her as one of my biggest role models.  

I love you Nancy. Thank you for being an amazing support system after all this time. You will always hold a special place in my heart. I am endlessly thankful that you are my mom's best friend, and that you are my second momma. Thank you for all the memories. Thank you for the laughs. Thank you for always being my go-to person when I need advice, or when I need some sense knocked into me. But most of all, thank you for being you. 

We miss you every day, Mom. Thanks for watching over us. 

                Love your babydoll, 

                Tessy Loo Loo 

A year and 28 days ago.

Dear Mom, 

So yesterday I decided to email Susan, my representative from Be the Match who helped me with my entire donation process. I sent her the youtube link to the video of my speech. I was not quite sure what she would think of it or if she would even watch it right away. Early this morning I got an email back from her with this: 

"Thank you so much for sharing the video with me. You are truly a beautiful person and are destined to make a difference in this world. When I first met you I knew you were special and the video and your mission just reinforces by belief. You are an inspiration."

Hearing this from someone who has worked with so many other donors like myself, and the woman who made the donation process so incredibly easy, meant the world to me. It's this kind of encouragement that keeps pushing me to spread my story to the world, for anyone who will listen!

There have been many times where friends of mine will bring it up, and say that they are thinking about signing up. If they don't stop me, I can talk their ear off for a half hour straight, at least. I am just so obsessed with what Be the Match does. Not only that, but if I explain how simple and easy the donation process really is, and how fulfilling it is, I know people will feel better about signing up. I understand how scary it might sound. Most people hear "bone marrow" and want to run. But if I educate people about how enlightening and inspiring the experience is for the donor, then they can get the real story. 

I just can't believe it's been over a year since that early Monday morning. My favorite memory of that day was when it hit afternoon, and Auntie walked over to the blood machine and could see I was just about done. It was like I was dreaming and finally woke up. And then it hit me. Not just that I would soon be free of the needles and be able to stand up for the first time in like 7 or 8 hours. But that I did it. I just changed this stranger's life forever. 

Not only that, but I changed mine. 

I really hope that when I'm settled down in life and have more time and resources on hand that I can somehow work with the registry. I am passionate about so many things, but the registry is for sure an organization that I know will carry with me for the rest of my life.  

Now with this said, I need to make an effort to do a donor drive somewhere! Doing school full time and working 17 hours a week can be kind of time consuming though. Maybe winter break I can organize something back home. That way it won't be so close to Relay for Life where I wouldn't be trying to raise money for 2 things at the same time. 

Anyway, random tangent. Point is, I am proud of myself today. I wish you could have been here to experience this whole thing with me. But I guess that's not exactly how it would have worked out, since I did this in honor of you and everything. Nevertheless, I know you would have wanted to be there. But I know you were watching over me that day to make sure everything went okay. Even though you couldn't point anyone to a bed pan so I threw up all over myself during the donation. Just kidding, I'm not blaming you. :) 

I love you mom. Thank you for being my inspiration. And the fighting force of everything I do. 

                Love your babydoll, 

                Tessy Loo Loo

P.s. Can you believe your baby girl is a junior in college now? Me neither. 

Haunting senses

Dear Mom,

The smell of chicken pot pie
Stacks of books all over the living room 
The Law and Order theme song 2 evenings a week
Scrambled eggs. Haven't had them that tasted like your's since. 
The smell of your perfume. Either raspberry or the musty one. 
George Strait playing while cleaning the house
Your soft and warm touch. 
The sweet wonderful taste of your chocolate cream pie. 
The pop and fizz of getting your diet decaf coke
Putting my hand against your's to show how small your's were. And how giant mine are. 
Watching your head fly back in one of your explosions of laughter.
The sound of your sewing machine late at night
The smell of fresh baked cookies every Christmas. 
Cuddling into your bed in the middle of the night for a very long phase
"Great Job Babydoll!"
All five senses
Filling me with joy, or haunting me with the "used to's"
Late night nostalgia, tucking me in at night
And I pretend you are right here 
with me. 



               Love your baby doll,
               Tessy Loo Loo

So Magical.

Dear Mom,

This past weekend was Relay for Life, and let me tell you, it was AMAZING. It may have been one of the best years ever! I had an amazing time welcoming new team mates, and spending time with old ones. I just love the atmosphere of relay: our whole town coming together for one cause. 
Relay was even more special this year because Katie attended! I could tell how much fun she was having. She made herself right at home! I am glad she was able to experience such an amazing organization. 
Another reason why Relay was so special this year was because I did a speech during the fight back ceremony. I wrote it out a couple weeks in advance, and worked on it until it was perfect. I poured my whole heart out into it because I knew that would be the only way to reach out to people. So, here it is. 



When faced with tragedy, I am sure that many will agree, that one small 3 letter word tends come up. Why. Why me? Why did the unimaginable have to happen? It has been over 4 years since my mother passed away from Leukemia, and I still find myself asking that very question. But it is that very question that led me to the journey of a lifetime. C. S. Lewis said, “Hardships often prepare ordinary people for an extraordinary adventure.” I wish I could have trademarked that quote myself, because that’s exactly how I would describe the recent events in my life.

When my mom passed away, my whole life turned upside down, and it took a long time for me to feel happy and find a new normal. Even though I was healing, I still couldn’t help asking, why. I couldn’t accept the fact that “these things just happen” and that “cancer is a horrible disease.” I wanted to take matters into my own hands. Even though I have supported Relay for Life and the American Cancer Society for many years, and now with a Team for my mom, it wasn’t enough. I wanted to be a direct part of the cause, I needed to find an answer to that “why.” Somewhere along the way while researching Leukemia, I came across the Be the Match Registry. After looking through their website for a few minutes, I was determined. When I turned 18, I was going to be a registered bone marrow donor.

I talked to some people about it, and many were concerned that I was making such a decision. “You know it hurts, right?” “It feels like a horse kicked you for a week.” But to me, I look at it like this. By donating bone marrow, I would probably go through a few days of pain. Cancer patients go through months, even years of battle. So what’s a few days of pain to someone who’s life is on the line? My mom passed away about 12 hours after her initial diagnosis. She had no chance of living. Who am I to not try and give someone else their chance?

Most registered donors go their whole lives without getting a call saying that could be a possible match for a patient with a life-threatening blood disease. Yet, I donated bone marrow to a complete stranger 8 months after I signed up for the registry. What people don’t know is that most donations are not done surgically anymore. I was able to do a peripheral blood stem cell donation. I was given drug injections to boost my stem cell count for four days in the comfort of my own home. My stem cells were collected on the fifth day, and it took about 7 hours to complete the process. It was kind of like donating blood at a blood drive, but longer and more precise. And no, it didn’t feel like a horse kicked me. The collection was sent off and transfused to my donor the next day. So with 5 days of drug injections that gave me flu-like side effects and minor muscle and bone aches, and 7 hours in a hospital, I was able to give someone a second chance at life. I’m like most people; I hate hospitals, and even now I still hate needles flinch when I get a blood test. But that didn’t stop me. Out of all the donors in the nation, I was the one who matched her. To be a direct part of someone else’s life like that, is the most empowering feeling imaginable.

So while all this was happening, someone else in my life was going a different direction on the same street. A couple weeks after I was told I was a match to my recipient, my good friend Katie Thompson was diagnosed with Leukemia. I was devastated that this disease had closely affected someone else in my life. It was later determined that she would also need a bone marrow transplant. Luckily her sister was a match for her, and their donation day was a month after mine. It bewilders me the way our lives have paralleled, but in a way it has made us a huge support system for each other. Katie experienced her first Relay for Life this weekend, rocking her purple shirt with pride. She has been in remission for over a year and hasn’t needed a blood transfusion in two months. She is living proof that miracles do happen, and bone marrow transplants are life-changing.

If even one person goes home today and signs up for the Be the Match Registry, I know I have done my job. A lot of people are scared to sign up, or don’t even know to do it. I am here today to tell you, that you CAN do it. People make it sound like it’s scarier than it really is. I can speak from experience and say it isn’t that bad. In fact, it’s inspiring. Not only that, but the staff with Be the Match go above and beyond to take care of their donors. I didn’t have to pay for a cent, from the pre-donation physical exam to gas money to go to the hospital. They take care of you, since you’re the one saving a life and everything it would only make sense.

Although I still don’t know the answer to my “why,” I am comforted. Because even though I couldn’t save my mom, I might have saved someone else’s. And that gives me my purpose in life. To inspire others to sign up to try to do the very same thing! You don’t need to experience tragedy to sign up, you don’t need to be a hero; you can just do it. Because you have the power to make a difference. You have the power to save a life.

I was so happy with myself that I didn't cry during the speech! (Although I almost did.) As I finished and started to walk off, I saw the left side of the stands, where all my family and friends were, rise and applaud for me. I smiled with pride. Having that kind of support in my life is what keeps me going, and is why I knew I would be able to do the speech. 

And if that wasn't good enough, our team received the Bob Johnson Memorial Award! So exciting for our team to be honored like that! Especially since the award came from friends. 

So it is safe to say that I had an amazing time this weekend. Oh! I cut my hair. Katie chopped off 12 inches! I feel like a 90's girl, so I guess I'll have to wear more denim or something. 

I love you mom. It always makes me sad to not see you at Relay. But I work even harder to raise money and awareness to honor you, your life and your fight. I love you with all my heart. 

                Love your babydoll,

                Tessy Loo Loo

Why is a raven like a writing desk? (And other nonsense)

Dear Mom,

You can thank Nathan for the entry title, haha. I decided to keep it because the whole inspiration of this entry came from utter nonsense, which is the essence of this riddle, and Alice. And it's catchy.

Anyway, it has recently come to my knowledge that there are people in this world, and even people that I know, who do not believe in going to the doctor. Not that they're lazy, or can't afford health insurance. People literally do not believe in medicine, and therefore do not go to the doctor. They feel you should heal naturally. 

Uhmm.... what?

I am trying to write this in an objective manner, but I do not think I will be able to hide my criticism well. First of all, let's look at the human lifespan. On average, we live MUCH longer than in the past, significantly longer. Well, in developed countries that is. Is this because of natural, or maybe even magical, healing powers? This is by no means because of modern medicine... right? 

Don't get me wrong, going to the doctor can be scary. But it is necessary. You can't just go by life thinking that you're fine. Checkups are important to make sure that nothing is going wrong. Not only that, but listening to your body is important. If your body is telling you "hey, my throat hurts" or "hey, I've been throwing up for four days" or "hey my arms just got cut off" I'm pretty sure the best decision is to suck it up and see the doctor.... 

Sorry for this huge random rant but I just can't wrap my head around this. It hits me personally too. You never went to the doctor. From what I can remember, the only time you went to the doctor since the 90's was the ear doctor. And that was just when you still went, when I was little, and we had appointments together. I always kick myself thinking about that week you were sick. If you had a normal doctor that you saw regularly, part of me thinks that they could have suspected something. They could have seen the sudden weight loss as a weird thing, not a healthy thing. I understand that your case of cancer was hopeless, especially since the level of severity increased within hours. So there's a good chance that having a good doctor, or any doctor, would not have changed anything.

But it still doesn't settle well. It took you being sick for 6 days before you went to urgent care. Sometimes when I let myself think about all the "what ifs" I had wished that you went in sooner. 

Point is, I know firsthand that deciding to not go to the doctor is not a grand idea. 

But the thing was, I had at least 7 different doctors over the years for every little thing that came up over my life, no matter how minuscule. (Okay, having a tumor in my ear, not so mini.) I wish you could have cared about your own health half as much as you cared about mine. 

So for anyone reading this, please be smart and get yourself checked out. Better safe than sorry. And also, side note, don't let your lack of trust in doctors be the reason why you don't want to sign up for Be  the Match. Because, you know, there's a difference between not believing in medicine and saving someone's life... right? 

Okay, my rant is done. I love you Mom. I don't mean to bash on you. But it's because of you that I understand how important it is the make my health a priority. So now that you're not here to take care of me, I know that I will make sure to take care of myself. 

I love you. 



                Love your babydoll, 
                Tessy Loo Loo

Those 6 days.

Dear Mom,

This morning as I got ready to work out, and slipped on my Idaho shirt that you bought me, my mind drifted to the seventh grade. Your work was sending you to a week-long training class, and it would be the first time that you were leaving a trip without me. I felt so silly that I was sad. I mean come on, I had been on a handful of leadership conferences and weekends away with friends. Why was it different now?

Nevertheless, as you were getting ready to sneak away to the airport early that morning, I followed you out, and before I knew it I was standing in the driveway crying. You pulled me in for a hug, and I knew you felt bad. At that point in my life, that was one of my hardest days, seeing you go… even though I knew you would be back 6 days later.

I smiled thinking about this, remembering how I would call her a couple times a day (like I always did when we were far apart). One time you answered your phone from your hotel suite’s Jacuzzi tub, living up your little vacation. Even though I missed you, I was happy that you got to have some time to yourself.

In the first few months after you passed away, that week often crossed my mind. It was so sad to think about how upset I was to see you go, when you would also be gone for a short amount of time. When now… you’re really gone. How was the mommy’s girl supposed to deal with that?

As the years have passed it has gotten a little easier. At first it was incredibly hard. So many times I grabbed my phone to call you, to tell you about something funny that had happened. It was surreal that you couldn’t be there for all the little things. That I couldn’t hear your laugh anymore. Everything was different.

Now I have a better grip of things. Why? Because I know that you ARE here. You’re always with me, in everything I do. When I mess up and feel guilty, you’re there to tell me it’s okay, and that I’ll learn from my mistakes. You’re there with me to watch the big things, like birthdays and graduation. You’re there when I laugh, you’re there when I cry. You’re there, just in a different way.

As much as I miss you, and as much as I hate the hard days, I still can smile at the fact that I am the luckiest girl in the world. Not only did I get you as my mom, but I got you as a guardian angel too.

                Love your babydoll,

                Tessy Loo Loo

Visions of Paradise.

Dear Mom,

Mom, what's it like in Heaven?
Do you sleep on a cloud?
Is it quiet, or loud?
Do you get a gorgeous view
of the world, and what's around you?

Mom, what was it like when you got there?
Did you wait in line?
Did you feel at home and just fine?
Were you welcomed with love
from all the others up above?

Mom, do you ever watch us down here?
Do you smile when we do?
Do you still laugh with me, too?
Can I still make you proud
and do things that leave you wowed? 

Mom, can you do me a favor? 
Will you continue to watch over me?
See me grow into who I want to be?
And when my time comes, will you wait?
Save me a spot, in case I'm late. 



                Love your baby doll,
                Tessy Loo Loo

Knowing the facts, hating the facts.

Dear Mom,


"Early diagnosis and treatment of acute promyelocytic leukemia (APL), the M3 subtype of acute myeloid leukemia (AML), is important because patients with APL may develop serious blood-clotting or bleeding problems."

"APL is one of the most frequently cured AML subtypes."

"About 70% to 90% of patients with APL are cured with treatment."



I know that there is nothing that anyone could have done to save you. The cancer hit you hard, and unbelievably fast. I mean, you hear of people having a few months to live, maybe even a few weeks to live. Never do you hear, "Your mom has been diagnosed with Leukemia, and she won't make it through the night."

I've read the facts, looked up statistics, studied the disease. But nothing ever makes it make any more sense. Nothing ever explains to me why your case of cancer ended your life so soon. Why you didn't get more time. Why you didn't get to say goodbye. 

What went from you calling me saying you'd be in the hospital for 30 days, to you going unconscious and never waking up, is a nightmare I pray no one else will ever have to go through.

But it does happen. Cancer diagnoses happen every day. 

I've been passion about the American Cancer Society way before you left us. But obviously my reason to fight back has grown stronger. And I will never stop fighting. Not til 854,790 turns into 0. 

If you're reading this, know you CAN make a difference in helping change those numbers. Join American Cancer Society's effort in finding a cure, and help us all celebrate more birthdays. We can do our part in fighting and BEATING the battle of cancer. 

Please visit my personal fundraising page for Relay for Life for more information, and even to make a contribution for an amazing cause.

Also know that anything can happen, in an instant. You've all heard "life is short" and "you don't know what you have until it's gone," but believe me... the worst can happen. So love the ones in your life and hold them close now, since you have the chance. 

You may not have survived your second battle Mom, but you will always be a fighter in my eyes.

Love you more than you know. 

               Love your baby doll,

               Tessy Loo Loo

Your gift

Dear Mom,

Two posts in one day! Aren't you lucky?
Alright, this is one of my tribute posts. About a year and a half ago, I posted one of my favorite pictures of you, the one with you holding a doll. Your beauty ceases to amaze me. Seriously, you are so angelic in that photo. 
Anyway, Jeremy Chase posted a comment on that photo. That little booger posted one of the most heartfelt pieces of writing ever written to me. I immediately typed it out on a word doc with the photo, printed it out, and it's been hanging in my room back home ever since. 
So, obviously I was going to post it here. I just didn't realize I hadn't done so already. 

Dec 11 2011
Looking at this doll, she knew someday that God would send her a gift. To be a mother, a carer, a provider, a friend.
She knew what would come would be a big grand adventure.
And girl was she right.
Most days were filled with laughter, some with tears, but she never feared 'cause happiness was just around the corner.
Unfortunately, there was a sad time in all our lives, when she had to pass on
She was taken, but is not gone, for she lives through every person see knew
And the best thing she left us on this earth was her gift, which was you.
By: Jeremy Chase.

Yeah, he's a pretty special dude. I realize more and more how thankful I am for him. One of the BEST things that came out of being best friends with Nathan was getting close with his family, especially Joome.

Sorry Jeremy. I try not to be all cutesy cutesy because I know you dislike it. I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate our friendship, and that I am forever grateful to have you in my life. Thank you. <3

So Mom, I think both of today's posts prove something very special:

I have amazing people in my life. With them, the hard times are very much cushioned. And I know you know I am in safe hands down here. I have just been extra thankful lately. 

                 Love your babydoll,

                 Tessy Loo Loo

& I can't wait

Dear Mom,

Last Friday should have been hard. I should have been crying myself to sleep. I should have stayed in bed. I should have been numb, not wanting to so anything.
But that didn't happen. You taught me better than that.
I'm not saying it gets easier. That I don't miss you. No, it definitely still hurts not having you here. But I know that it will always hurt. Thirty years from now, when my kids are in college, it will hurt. When I'm a crazy old lady dancing at my grandkid's wedding, I will miss you. This will never go away, and I know that.
Do I guess Friday was just a day of reflection. Although there was a lull of sadness that gloomed over, I tried to think on the bright side. Having tons of people reaching out to me worked wonders. Although it sucks not having you here, MAN are there a lot of people here who love us to no end.
It brought me back to that night in the hospital. Although it was the worst night of my life, looking around the waiting room, I knew I was in safe hands. Even on that I night I knew that everything was going to be okay.
So I guess as time passes by, it really has become less about hurting at how long I've been without you, and turning into longing and anxiousness about when I will see you again. Because even if its a long ways off, it will be worth the wait.


                Love your baby doll,
                Tessy loo loo

Eggs, bunnies, & jelly beans.

Dear Mom,

I love the springtime. The sun is finally back out, with occasional rain to keep everything green. I get to spend time with loved ones over break, and believe me, it's always much needed. 
But there's always a shadow of sadness around this time of year. Remembering Easter 4 years ago isn't always the most fun. It's all kind of a blur. I had gone to Lou and Mary's, and we didn't get back until like 6am. I remember getting up at 8am because Bub called. Soon after, Tricia, Curtis, Nate (Cruz), and Norma came by the house. Then Dayna, Sara, and a few others I can't remember. Then I went to cousin Mary's for Easter stuff, although no one was really celebrating. Then I don't remember anything until everyone coming to Laura's house that night. And I mean everyone. 
It's nice as the years have passed that I can spend a happy day at home, not thinking about all this stuff as much. I mean, it doesn't matter what holiday it is; I always miss you and wish you were there. But at least now I can have fun with the kids and it's a more enjoyable holiday. I am thankful for how far I've come. It's nice not being sad all the time. 
Easter with you was always weird but it still brings a smile to my face. I think you made me find easter eggs at my house every year, even our last easter together freshman year. I was mortified, hoping no one saw my 14-year-old self hunting for candy. But I did it anyway, knowing you had gone through all that trouble. 
I guess this entry is going to be shorter than I though. I just wanted to let you know that although this time of year doesn't always bring back the fondest memories, I can still be thankful for the time I have at home, and I'm thankful for the good memories that also come to mind.

Love you more than you know.


               Love your baby doll,
               Tessy Loo Loo

"A New Reason to Mourn on Easter."

Dear Mom,

I have decided to resurface this (digging it out from the prehistoric facebook "notes") after writing this over three years ago for my english composition class. Mary texted me asking me if she could read this out loud at tomorrow night's Relay team captain's meeting. I guess the captains were told to share their stories of why they relay, and she remembered that I wrote this.
I have the original paper somewhere in my room, with my grade (A+, sheesh, it better have been!) and a very eloquent and thoughtful note from Mr. Peters. He told me to cherish my story. Well, hear I am, cherishing it, and sharing it once again.

Note to readers: this is not a light read. Only read if you have time/the courage to read a 5 page paper about the worst night of my life. Grab some tissues.


Tess Kelly
Mr. Peters
AP Composition
9 September, 2009
A New Reason to Mourn on Easter
No one ever expects the worst to happen. For me, having to face the doom of having everything that was ever familiar to me in life, shattered, at only fifteen; well, it was not exactly my cup of tea. Still, my mind often drifts back to that night, in an attempt to remember how things used to be, even if it means going through that pain all over again.
It was early April, and I had just finished up another play. Mom and I were both pretty exhausted, after all the hustle and bustle. Mom woke up that Monday with the stomach flu, a really bad case of it. It got to the point where she couldn’t even walk from her bedroom to the bathroom without getting winded. She threw up constantly, and was living on Sprite Zero. Me being the selfish teenager I was, I didn’t think anything of it, until her best friend Nancy started nagging her to go see a doctor. It wasn’t until that Friday, when her boss screamed at her, that she finally gave in. We went to Pinnacle Urgent Care, but had to come back the next morning.
Mom had driven herself home, while Nancy’s son Danny and I went to the movies. I came back home, and the door was locked, and the light was off. I was so confused and couldn’t find her anywhere. I called Nancy in a panic. I went back outside and saw her; she was in the car, taking a nap. “It’s more comfortable in here,” she had said. I dragged her inside, now seeing that this was a lot more serious than I thought. I fell asleep to her wheezing in the next room.
She couldn’t even dress herself in a timely manner. I had to wake her up, and it took her at least twenty minutes just to change her clothes. She didn’t even remember to tie her shoes, so I had to tie them for her when we were in the waiting room. I was trying so hard to ignore how bad she looked. She couldn’t think straight at all. I was trying to tell her a funny story, and she had barely acknowledged that I had spoken. I was heartbroken.
PUC sent us straight to the ER, where they put her in an uncomfortable bed that she complained about. I couldn’t stand to see her in there, so I stayed outside most of the time. Still in a daze, I went to her friend Janet’s house to take a shower so I could go prom dress shopping with my best friend Jamie. I went into Mom’s room and said I love you, and she said it back.
I got a call about an hour later from her. She told me that they were moving her to Stanford to run some tests, and that she would have to stay there for a little while. With tears in my eyes and a forced cheerful voice, I said okay, and said that I loved her, and she said it back.
I worried about her when I went shopping, but not too much. I told everyone to call me if absolutely anything went wrong. So when no one called in those six hours, I felt at ease. I wasn’t called until around nine o’clock on my way home, from Mary, Nancy’s sister, who had followed the ambulance up to Stanford. I told her that I would just go up to the hospital after Easter brunch the next day, because I was burnt out. I figured it wouldn’t be a big deal since she was going to be there for awhile, and I hated being in hospitals.
Two minutes later, I got a call from my Uncle Jim from Turlock. “Honey, you need to come tonight. Your mom is really sick.” Those weren’t exactly words I could go home to.
By the time I got there, it was nearly eleven, and I was frantic. I had texted by friend Gabe, so scared for the unknown, and he assured me “Everything will be all right. Stanford is a really good hospital, and they’re going to take care of her.”
Having that in mind, I was not ready for the big news that was about to be laid on me.
I finally was allowed to see Mom, but before they let me, Mary warned me of what she would look like, so I wouldn’t be as scared when I came into her room. “She’s on a respirator to help her breathe, and she has tubes with blood coming out of her, and medicine going in.”
I couldn’t stand this, so I broke down. As the tears ran down my face, I tried to keep myself from picturing her as a sick person. How could that be? Just hours ago she was fine. My mom had to be fine. She just had to be.
I sat down in the waiting room, as more people filtered in to be with me. Janet, Mary, and Nancy went in to see Mom and to talk to her doctor. My greatest fears that haunted me on the way to the hospital weren’t going to be all in my head anymore.
Three of them surrounded me, took my hands, and held me. “Should we tell her?” asked Mary. They returned nods with teary eyes.
Mary sighed. “Mom has been diagnosed with Leukemia. She’s bleeding in her stomach, and her brain. She has a very special case, and they’ve been trying everything,” she paused, “but they don’t think she’s going to make it through the night. I’m so sorry sweetie.”
I felt my whole body grow numb. Everything became blurry, as I went into hysterics. Nancy held me close as I screamed uncontrollably “She can’t leave me! It isn’t true!” No matter how many times they said “Of course she won’t leave you. She will always be with you,” I couldn’t stop crying. One minute I thought she was staying in the hospital for a few days, the next she was going to die. How could this happen to me?
Somehow, I was able to drag myself to her hospital room. There were a couple of nurses in there, who looked up and smiled warmly. And there she was. Yellowed skin, tape over her mouth where tubes were hooked up, discolored hair. It was unreal; to see someone so who used to be so full of life, now slowly slipping away and turning into a memory, right before my eyes.
I went by her side, pulled up a chair, and careful stroked her hand. It felt smaller now; puffed up and scaly. I was almost afraid to touch her, but I knew I wanted to cherish these last moments with her.
Soon they kicked everyone out so that they could try their very last option, which was to try one session of chemotherapy. Meanwhile, the doctor called for a family meeting, to explain in detail what was going on. All twelve of us, four relatives, seven “extended family members,” and I squeezed into the conference room, listening to the doctor’s details of mom’s condition. Mom had a special case of Acute Promyelocytic Leukemia. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t keep up with all the blood she was losing, and not even the quadrupled medication doses could save her. There was nothing they could do, except make her last night as comfortable as possible. All I could do was sit there, nod my head, and hold back the tears.
Even when I went back to her room, I kept the tears back. With the beeping monitor, the numbers getting progressively lower by the minute; my random spasm jumps from nerves; people coming in and out to see her; nothing would stop me from being strong for her in her last moments on Earth. This was our last night, and it was going to be perfect.
It broke my heart to see her suffering in that last hour. All the while, I held her hand, adjusted her blankets, kissed her hand, yelled at the nurse whenever blood dripped from the tubes onto her delicate skin. I was so torn apart. I couldn’t stand her leaving me, before I had even turned sixteen, without sharing all the things I wanted her to in my life. I would be without her graduating high school and college, getting married, having children. I couldn’t comprehend the thought of all this. But, the unselfish side of me kept whispering to her softly, “Go on Mom. Go. I’ll be fine. It’s okay. Let yourself go. It’s time.”
I just kept looking back at the screen, expecting for the beeping to rise in high intervals all of a sudden, just in like all those hospital shows. But, before I knew it, the nurse calmly stated “Now, she has passed.”
My world turned upside down. I immediately let go of her hand, and ran to my uncle and sobbed. No one can ever know the pain that I felt, at fifteen years old, at two o’clock in the morning on Easter Sunday, when my mother just died of Leukemia, when she was diagnosed with it just twelve hours before. It created such physical pain to my nerves and heart, and face wait drenched with tears.
An hour later, I was sitting in the completely full waiting room. I said aloud, “You know, I don’t think she could have ever imagined that this many people would have come.” The whole room warmly agreed, reflecting on how modest she had always been. I felt so blessed, to be surrounded by a whopping fifteen loved ones, who I knew were going to take care of me. Even on my darkest day, I somehow knew that everything was going to be okay.
It was then that I went back to say goodbye to her. She looked so beautiful, now without all the tubes. She looked peaceful, and was even smiling slightly. I cried softly as I told her how much she meant to me, that I would be forever grateful to everything she’s ever done to me, and that I wouldn’t let her down. I kissed her hand, said I love you, and let go. I let her go, knowing that someday, I would be reunited with my one true hero, in that big musical in the sky.



Looking back on this, I am so incredibly glad I shared this story. Although this isn't a good memory, it keeps your memory alive. Also, I'm annoyed reading the awkward sentence structure, and mentally adding in details that I had to delete to keep the paper to 5 pages.

To anyone reading this, please call up your parents or caregivers and tell them you love them. It's horrible to think in a mindset like this, but you never know when the people you love will be taken from you. So make your last memory with them a good one.

I love you so much Mom. This goes without saying. But, I will always hold close in my heart what our last words to each other were.




                Love your babydoll,                Tessy Loo Loo