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Lauren's mom

Lauren Vassello
She's got her own identity. She's got her own name, her own job, her own life. But in my mind, she will always be Lauren's mom. And she made me rethink what it means to be a mother.

I was struggling last week to write a tribute about her beautiful 13-year-old daughter who, after battling an extremely rare and aggressive form of cancer, passed away. It was just one year ago that the family had been blind-sided with the devastating diagnosis.

I called Stephany and clumsily stumbled through a few awkward, shallow questions. I felt like I was trampling on holy ground. Then I said, "tell me about Lauren." For the next hour I did nothing but type and listen.

This super-human mom recounted her daughter's journey from the first phone call from the doctor to her final moments in the hospital, reciting every detail with the driven automation of a machine, the precision of a surgeon, and the energy of a tornado. She seemed to be on a mission to retrace every step — not for me — but to honor her daughter's struggle and spirit. She watched over every word of her daughter's story with the same focus and attentiveness that a first-time mom watches her baby sleep.

I was in awe. I felt ferociously protective of this mother, this daughter, this battle, this journey...

As I prepared Lauren's scanned photo for print, I studied the light in her eyes before she was sick. I carefully removed every speck of dust from her image, her cheer leading uniform, her beautiful smile. And with each stroke, I remembered getting my daughters ready for school, for recitals, for church, for the prom. I felt protective of them, too.

There was softness in Stephany's voice as she recounted her daughter's last days, her dreams for the future, and finally her death. For her, the work of being strong is over, and the even harder work of grieving has begun.

I think of her often, and feel grateful that even in an unspeakably tragic situation, I got to witness her heroism. Stephany reminded me of the unfathomable depth of love a mother — or father — has for their child. She reminded me of how much I love my daughters, and in a few months, how I'll get to watch my oldest daughter love her new baby girl.

Well done, Lauren's mom. For what it's worth — you did it right.


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