Mom Taught Me How to Live and Die With Courage, Spirit and Spunk: Learn From Her, Too

All of us still living can learn from my mother. Mom offered a stellar example of how best to leave this earth: The secret to dying well is to seize the moment with courage and determination and to squeeze as much joy, fun and deliciousness as you can while doing what you most love.
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This is the most painful blog post I've ever had to write. But, dear reader, I feel that I owe you an explanation of why I've been absent so often and for such long stretches of time during the past year.

Last fall, my strong, energetic, astute, health-conscious mother -- who lived nearly 3,000 miles away from me -- announced at an intimate family gathering that she'd been diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer.

My dear mom -- whose lung cancer had absolutely nothing to do with smoking -- chose to forego any medical treatment that might give her unwanted side effects. In other words, she didn't want to take pills or submit to chemotherapy or radiation. Instead, she opted to let the cancer run its course and to lead her life to the fullest in whatever time she had left.

After her initial shock at getting stage 4 lung cancer, my normally-healthy mom went on to beat the odds -- heroically, stoically, defiantly --- for a full year. Remarkably, she lived well past the three months she thought she'd last.

Recently, after going through her long, amazing "bucket" list of things she wanted to do, Mom passed away peacefully, with a smile on her face.

Thankfully, for nearly a year, I was around to personally watch Mom's brave battle, because as soon as I completed last-minute editing and fact-checking deadlines for my then-upcoming book, Beyond Sugar Shock, I hurriedly relocated.

I moved from New York City (my home for the past decade) to be near my dying mom in California (where she lived) for what we thought would be her final weeks or months. As it turned out, Mom lasted another 9.5 months after I arrived, so I had the good fortune of being able to spend many amazing times with her at the end of her life.

What a life-changing experience it's been -- terribly painful and grueling, but also truly uplifting and inspiring. Looking back, it was a rare honor and distinct privilege to see Mom valiantly fighting off the lung cancer that was invading her increasingly-frail body and brain. And how extraordinary to see her indomitable spirit prevail so long past the few months she thought she had left!

Indeed, the entire year since Mom's diagnosis was filled with a bittersweetness -- precious new memories, unexpected obstacles, valuable lessons, gut-wrenching, disease-triggered side effects such as anger and impatience, and sweet, tender moments that I now call "My Mom Miracles." Like the time she called me up just to say, "I'm feeling weak, but I want you to know I love you very much." What experience can top that?

Perhaps my biggest takeaway from the last year is this: Mom taught me the secret to dying well.

My mother went out with such style, spirit, and spunk!

All of us still living can learn from my mother. Mom offered a stellar example of how best to leave this earth: The secret to dying well is to seize the moment with courage and determination and to squeeze as much joy, fun and deliciousness as you can while doing what you most love.

Although I'm shedding tears now as I write this, what I now find amusing is that Mom's things-to-do-before-I-die "bucket list" demonstrated a vitality, enthusiasm, and verve that many young people lack. What Mom did in her last year of life would put many people to shame!

Just read about her end-of-life "exploits," if you will.

In between napping (and suffering from the indignities of the disease), my wheelchair-bound mother went to challenging plays, modern ballet performances, thoughtful art movies, high-definition Metropolitan Opera screenings, nice restaurants (including new eateries), her favorite farmers' markets (Mom loved organic fruits and vegetables), and even a nearby beach, where she loved to watch waves crash against the shore. (Recently, at her request, in a private memorial ceremony, I scattered Mom's cremains -- that's the word for cremated remains -- into the Pacific Ocean.)

While the lung cancer was rapidly spreading and her time was running out, Mom also gave cooking lessons to her nurses and me (I now have a notebook of newly-acquired great recipes), did some redecorating (she surrounded herself with photos of loved ones, added longer bamboos to one of her favorite vases, and bought new, cute end tables), and did final, generous planning and organizing of papers, finances, etc.

This past summer, Mom even vicariously swam with me. What I mean is that when she no longer had the strength to swim herself, Mom -- who didn't even complain that she wasn't up to it -- asked me to take a few laps in her favorite area, near the ocean. (It had salt water, not chlorine.) When I returned from my swim, Mom looked at peace and said she felt "refreshed" and "calm," as I did. Isn't that amazing?

In her final days, Mom even continued to read two newspapers daily (who does that?), often underlined sections she found interesting, and saved piles of articles for me to read (I'm still going through them!).

Much to my utter joy and profound relief, Mom also lasted long enough to see my second book, Beyond Sugar Shock, get published. (Hay House published it in June.)

I invite you to read the book's dedication (see below) that I wrote for her. (I'm so thankful that my Hay House editors kindly let me add it at the last minute.) In other words, knowing that she was going to die soon, Mom was determined to enjoy a dazzling end of life, spending many meaningful, memorable times alone, as well as with friends and loved ones, including me, of course.

As I think back over this past year, I am grateful for so many things.

  • I'm grateful that Mom and I were able to spend so many good times together doing things we both loved (going to the theater, farmer's markets, films, Metropolitan Opera screenings, dinners, the beach, etc.).

  • I'm grateful that Mom and I were able to share the simple, fun pleasure of finding grammatical errors in newspapers or books. That's a love we both shared. (I suspect that I became an author and journalist, in part, because of Mom's love for the English language and her interest in the world.)
  • I'm grateful that Mom took time, even in her final days, to teach me things that she felt are very important. (Read below about some of her lessons.)
  • I'm grateful that Mom forgave me for the many times in the past when I disappointed her, "fell short," or did something "wrong." (Hey, I haven't been the perfect daughter over the years.) Likewise, I am grateful that I was able to forgive her, too.
  • I'm grateful that Mom said truly nice things about me to others (behind my back). She described me to her rabbi as a "wonderful, loving, supportive daughter with a heart of gold." (I'm getting tears in my eyes again.)
  • I'm grateful that I was able to say goodbye to Mom the night before she passed away. I told her that it was okay to go, that I'm strong and that I'll be fine without her, that she had taught me a lot, that I'll think of her whenever I swim (one of her favorite things to do), that I'll make her proud of me, and that she'd been a wonderful role model.
  • I'm also grateful that Mom, without even realizing it, gave me an idea for -- and inspired me to write -- a much-needed book, which can help many. I'm now hard at work writing it as I grieve for her. (More about that another time.)
  • Now, here's the dedication my Hay House editors let me add at the last minute to my book, Beyond Sugar Shock, after I learned that Mom had stage 4 lung cancer. (It comes right before the table of contents.)

    To My Beloved Mom

    To my amazingly strong, talented, inspiring mom. Thank you for teaching me by your stellar example to believe in myself and to optimistically pursue my goals and dreams, to embrace the arts and other passions with a childlike enthusiasm, and to persevere no matter what.

    Are you grieving the loss of a mom, dad or other loved one? What did you learn from my personal post?

    Connie Bennett is author of the bestselling books, Beyond Sugar Shock and Sugar Shock. Connie has achieved international recognition as the Sugar Freedom Coach, and she has helped thousands of people worldwide to easily break free of their sugar addiction so they can get slimmer, sexier and sweeter. Connie is also a charismatic motivational speaker, a certified life coach, a certified health coach, and a popular radio host (Gab with the Gurus). A former sugar addict, Connie knows what it's like to feel addicted to candies, cookies, and cakes. In 1998, she reluctantly quit sugar on doctor's orders, and all 44 of her ailments disappeared, including her horrible headaches, scary heart palpitations, and severe PMS. Connect with Connie on Facebook at, and learn about her Sugar Freedom Now Course at

    For more by Connie Bennett, click here.

    For more on death and dying, click here.

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