The seemingly unimaginable happened, and my mother took her last breath. It was a two-year battle that seemed to leave anyone and everyone who heard the intense details of her battle with cancer speechless. Flesh was raw, emotions were everything but controlled, and I was left broken. Memories raced through my head as I tried to understand that my mother would never return home. I would never embrace her warm hugs again, experience our girl talks again, and never feel whole again. As I walked through the empty house, a ghost-like figure would be laughing at the dinner table or I would see a mother figure doing laundry for the family. What once was a welcoming home, became a cold, haunted house that lingered with glimpses of my mother everywhere. My mama was the kind of person who could light up a room with her smile and make anyone feel at home with her reassuring hugs. Our home was the kind of place where you could walk in and just stop to take a breath from the stressors of life. Laughter filled each room and special moments were always being created. But one day there was a stiffness in my chest when I walked in. Mama wasn’t there to greet me, she was isolating herself in her bedroom and I immediately knew something was wrong. I was only 15 years old when I received the news that my mom had an incurable type of cancer that would eventually take over her whole body and take away my best friend. Almost overnight, treasured nostalgic parts of my house became haunted by disturbing events that seemed never to go away. Becoming my mom's caregiver, I began to feel that home wasn’t a place where I could sit back and relax anymore. Every day there was a new medication in the cabinet, another roll of bloody bandages was added to the trash, and another upcoming social gathering that Mama had to decline. My nights were filled with applying medication and begging my mom to eat. But she seemed always to say she was fine, and everything would be ok, and encouraged me to go spend time with friends and not to put my life on hold for her. It was hard for me to imagine that any part of life would be ok because I knew my mom had only months to live. Before I could fulfill my mother's wishes to enjoy life, I needed to release my anger at the injustice of the situation. Looking back on my mother's final weeks before she passed, I remember her resilience and commitment to live every day to the fullest. She also pushed herself to see her friends for what would be probably the last time. She watched as many movies as she could that had happy endings. My mother's grit to never give up, even when an obvious ending was coming, changed my outlook on life. Trying new things doesn’t terrify me anymore. Taking risks without regret is my new motto! My mother never cared if what she did would exhaust her the next day because she knew her final days were approaching and living life to the fullest was exactly how she wanted to spend her remaining days. Individuals experience a variety of experiences that can haunt them and rob them of their future. For me, ghosts, whether physical or emotional, may never fully go away, and in my case should not dissipate; however, I've learned to embrace the memory of my mother's love and care while moving on without her.