10/06/2026
I’ve gone back and forth about whether or not I wanted to post this. I never want anyone to think I’m taking my mom’s story and making it about me. This is her story. She is the one fighting cancer and living through all of this. But honestly, I also want to brag about my mom. I want people to know how strong she is and what a year this has been for our family.
This has been the longest, shortest, best, and worst year of my life. One year and one week ago, life was normal. I was just starting college and excited to see what the future looked like. Now I don’t want the future to come so fast.
October 2nd was the first time I had a bad feeling. I called Mom after leaving OHS and could hear something in her voice. A few days later, October 6th, 2025, that fear became real. On October 8th, I found out how much chemo she would need and had one of the worst anxiety attacks of my life sitting in the Seykora Automotive parking lot. I also got some of the best hugs of my life that day. October 10th, Grandpa Victor came with us for her PET scan. There was so much tension in the air, but Grandpa understood and was just there. I love you, Grandpa. Thank you. October 17th, I drove Mom into Minneapolis to get her port put in. It was the first of many times I would sit next to her in a hospital and somehow still see her smile. October 20th was her first chemo treatment. Mrs. Justice helped me understand how I could support Mom through everything that was happening. Thank you, Mrs. Justice, for being someone I could go to when I had questions. That night I sat through my Zoom class while Mom slept in the rocking chair next to me, and I remember just being grateful she was there.
November 10th, we were told that if she had waited until Christmas, we could have lost her. That was also the weekend she shaved her head, and honestly, I still think she rocks it. January 30th was one of the hardest days. Doctors were talking about stopping chemo and rushing her into surgery. I got that call standing next to Rod and felt my whole body go numb. Later, Jennye called me, and I couldn’t even speak without crying. She told me to come over, and we just sat, talked, and cried together. Jennye, thank you for being there for me through all of this. I love you so much.
April 29th was Mom’s double mastectomy. I spent the day waiting for news until she finally called Dad and me, still drowsy, upset that they had taken almost all of her lymph nodes. I still kind of laugh thinking about it because that was somehow the first thing she wanted us to know after surgery. May 14th brought a huge scare that she may have been tested wrong and maybe valuable time had been lost. Soon after, we learned that wasn’t the case. May 19th, Mom texted the family group chat, “Come over for dinner tonight. 6ish?” and I spent the next four hours freaking out. That night she told us there was still cancer in her. The first couple weeks of June were rough while we waited to find out if chemo was working.
Then August 11th came.
“Everything has shrunk. Chemo appears to be working.”
I think tears of joy are real.
It’s working.
Through all of this, I learned how lucky I am to have the people around me. Larry’s became one of the safest places I could be. People listened, hugged me, or simply stayed beside me when I didn’t want to talk. Some hugs made my guard completely come down, and I honestly think those people helped make this year more bearable.
To everyone who supported my family, checked in, prayed for us, wore pink, or wore one of the pink hoodies for Mom, thank you. And to every Photos By Trev client who gave me patience and understanding while I tried to balance photography, school, work, family, and appointments, thank you too. I was figuring out a completely different life than the one I expected to be living.
Mom, you have been the strongest and bravest person I know through this whole process. You cared for me when I felt like I should have been caring for you. You let me cry to you when I felt like I should have been letting you cry to me. You kept telling me everything was going to be okay even when you didn’t know that yourself.
This year was not what we hoped it would be, but you haven’t given up, and that is the biggest win. I hate cancer and what it has done to our lives, but I love you more than I could ever hate any of it.
This year also reminded me why Photos By Trev means so much to me. Keeping memories alive has always been the reason behind what I do, but those words mean something completely different now. Take the pictures. Get in the pictures. Save the little moments. Hug people a little longer. Tell people you love them.
Mom, I love you forever.
And as long as I’m living, my mother you’ll be.
