My six-year-old Joey told his grandmother -- my mom -- the other day, "Nana, you are generous." It was thoughtful and touching and it brought a smile to her face. Later that night, Joey said the same to me. "Mom, you are generous," he proclaimed. And now I'm not sure if he really meant his sweet sentiments or if he was just practicing one of his new kindergarten vocabulary words. Regardless, it got me thinking about how generous his Nana really is.

My mom not only generously gave me life. She also saved my life -- not in the medical, scientific manner surgeons and oncologists saved my life but by the sheer force of love, support, comfort, and undying devotion that seems to involuntarily pour from the hearts of moms with sick children.

My mom rushed over to my house the minute I told her about my diagnosis. She took a walk with me, my two boys, my niece, and a little girl I was babysitting at the time. She helped me manage the chaos that ensued for the rest of the day and she was with me for the rest of my cancer days. She sat waiting for me to emerge from surgery, worried sick about the state of my prognosis -- happily, my cancer had not spread -- and she sat with me during chemotherapy infusions, medical appointments, genetic counseling, and hospital stays. She watched my two little boys for 35 days in a row while I reported for radiation treatments. She took my boys on a moment's notice when I was too sick, too weak, too depressed to care for them myself. She did it all. And so much more.

I am thankful for my mom every time I am reminded of my cancer journey -- which is no less than every day. When I look at my scars, my new hair, my new lease on life, I realize my mom saved me -- is still saving me.

Joey had it right. His Nana is generous. How lucky for us.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.