This post has been coming for a while, a few years to be precise.

On the 25th of this month, it will be 3 years ago that my mom passed away. She died due to complications related to colon cancer. Despite my overwhelming positivity in most aspects of life, I feel that it is probably time that I speak about this and the effect that it has had on me. This post will be long and if you are squemish, you probably shouldn’t read.

It’s not easy watching someone disappear from your life. My mom was a great woman. Loud, passionate and incredibly loving. She sacrificed so much in her life for my sisiter and I and I will always be incredibly grateful for everything she did to allow my sister and I to succeed.

My mom grew up in a tiny town called Jan Kempdorp outside of Kimberly in South Africa (which itself is a pretty small town). How the hell a family of Jews ended up there I will never know.

My mom had a difficult upbringing as one might expect, being a Jew in a small South African town. Antisemitism was rife and money was almost non-existent. Despite this though, my mom did well at school and her life long dream was to go to Uganda to live and work with the their gorilla population, sadly though, this dream was never to materialize.

It is hence not a surprise that as an adult, I am extremely passionate about animal welfare and am a member of a variety of welfare groups. In fact this weekend, I will be participating in a Peta protest against the use of animal skins in clothing where I will be covered in “blood” and will taunt people at the side of the road as they drive past – something I love doing because in general, I can’t stand people.

My mom was never able to attend a university but I was so happy that 2 months before her death I was able to give possibly the greatest moment of her life, which was my university graduation. I don’t think I have ever seen a bigger smile on her face, even bigger than my Bar Mitzvah.

One of the many lowest points that occur in seeing my mom pass away and something that still haunts me 3 years later is the last conversation I had with her before she fell into a coma. It was not the content of the conversation but rather that we had a bit of a argument. It was nothing serious, but we had an scuffle over something trivial while she was in the hospital and I kind of walked away in a huff.

The next day, my dad called me to say that my mom was in a coma. Two weeks later she was dead. I never got to say goodbye or how much I loved her. That moment haunts me.

Over the next two weeks, while her lifeless body was in the ICU, we all were around her, we spoke to her, we spoke about life, we did out best to put off the inevitable.

I knew that my mom was holding on till we told her it was okay for her to pass, I could feel it and sense it. On the 25th of July at 12:15 in the ICU at Linksfield clinic, I asked my family if I could have a moment with her. I told her how much I loved her and I thanked her for everything she had done for me. At the end, I kissed her incredibly bloated face and I whispered in her ear “Go and be at peace”. I turned around and walked towards the door of the ICU. As I was about to walk out of the door, her heart stopped and the infamous flat line sound was made by the hospital machinery.

It was over.

My dad and I hugged for the first time in my life and he cried which was something I have never seen before. I told him it would be ok. They were married for 27 years and my mom passed away at the age of 62.

The last 10 years of my mom’s life were not happy at all. Prior to her having colon cancer, she also had breast cancer which led to her having a mastectomy. She also had around 10 major 8 hour back surgeries which included things such as a spinal fusion on multiple occasions. At the time of her death, she couldn’t really walk anymore and was in constant pain.

Yet despite this, she always showed tremendous positivity and courage and even went to work right up until 3 weeks before her death. She was a file administrator for the same family of companies for the best part of 30 years. That courage, positivity, loyalty and strong will is something I am proud to carry with me today as part of her legacy. She was a great woman and the life and soul of our family. My sister and I sound so similar to her, especially our enormous laugh.

I miss her so much and it has been difficult for me to come to terms with seeing a new women in my dad’s bed where my mom used to sleep, especially given that it only took him 4 months to move on and is now unhappy (although he has yet to admit as much to me). Our relationship has been strained but I want him to be happy. He is still healthy in body and mind and has many years to live. I want them to be happy years.

This month is always hard for me and closer to the 25th I will become snappier and a bit nasty to those around me but it is never intentional.

Anyways, I am glad I finally had the courage to post this.

I love you mom!