I stumbled across a blog called 'Diary of a Dying Mom', and it is, in a word, brilliant. I have started reading it from the beginning and already have so many of my questions answered about what the process of dying may have been like for you: the fear of leaving us to fend for ourselves; having to go before you're ready; making medical choices that could prolong and shorten your life altogether with no way of knowing until it's happening. It's no hot and steamy Danielle Steel novel, but I still think you would have enjoyed reading it.
You always kept a smile on your face when I was around you, but eventually I lost count of how many times I woke up to the sound of your sobs filling the halls while you let your guard down to Dad early in the mornings when you thought I was asleep. In case I never got a chance to say it, thank you for trying so hard to be strong in front of me. Although we were always honest with each other, I now know that some things aren't meant to be shared with your children whether they're 5 or 25, and I'm glad you understood that. If you would have cried in front of me as often as I'm sure you wanted to, I don't know that I could have handled those last two months as well as I did. We are one in the same- if someone is crying, we provide them their strength. I'd spent so much of my life being strong already... thank you for letting me be a kid again and for acting like you believed me when I told you I still thought you would somehow get better.
I needed that.