It is with a heart full of sadness that I write to let you know that my mom, Francine, has entered the final stage of her life, and she has started the process of passing away. My heart is also full of appreciation and gratitude that Francine is my mother — and that she got to be a mother and sister to so many of you.
Fran has aggressive stage IV cancer. It has spread throughout her abdomen and has significantly compromised her liver. The origin of the cancer could not be found. Although we considered chemotherapy with her doctors, due to the advanced nature of the cancer and her overall weakened condition, we all quickly came to the decision that treatment is not a viable path and will likely lead to complications of toxicity and a lower quality of life without much of a chance of doing anything. So we have chosen palliative care and have begun working with hospice.
For those of you having a hard time believing this because just a month ago you had seen or spoken with Francine and she was up to her busy, normal activities of living and teaching, that’s correct: just a month ago she was in seemingly excellent shape as per usual. And I too have a hard time understanding this. I don’t know if this is true, but I believe that my mom was in such great overall shape that it masked what was happening beneath the surface, until it was too late. She did all the things she was supposed to: check-ups, cancer screenings, exercise, and eating well. This is definitely one of those unbelievable cases of “she was so healthy and it came out nowhere.” To put it simply, it’s a shock.
A quick timeline for those of you who want to know. One month ago she started experiencing some abdominal discomfort and loss of appetite. This was pegged to possible sadness around upcoming anniversary of Alan’s passing, the state of the world, etc. After it persisted for 3 weeks, along with an increase in shortness of breath, she admitted herself to the ER for testing. Within a few hours tests showed that some form of cancer had spread to the liver. She spent a week in the hospital for observation and testing. A few days after getting out, this past Tuesday, we were told together at the Miami Cancer Institute that it’s a highly advanced stage of cancer, with an unknown origin as of the latest set of tests, and a recommendation not to treat. Her physical decline has been quick since coming home from the hospital.
I will note for the record that my mother was told she had cancer on November 13th — the one year anniversary of Alan’s passing from cancer, her husband and my father.
Despite the tremendous weakening she is experiencing, Francine is somehow in excellent spirits. She immediately moved into Acceptance of the harsh reality. And she has been beyond Graceful with the process of, well, dying. She’s not worried about herself, but more her community, and anything that’s left on her to do list. She is still trying to knock out reading and grading some essays even after hospice and aid is now here. She says she “owes them.” And of course she’s in endless planning, doing, and chatting mode. Imagine her in her very slight Jewish New York accent sitting from the couch or in bed: “Get the deed to the house before we forget… Move my bed to the left, no to the right, we need to make room for the hospice bed… Give me my laptop, I know what I’m doing, I owe those papers… Look don’t take this the wrong way… Let me give it to you straight… Can ya imagine…” etc etc.
One of her only gripes is she did not get to do the traveling she had planned for her imminent retirement. That one is really hard for me. I cry writing this because all of this is so undeserved, but especially that. But even then, she herself has moved beyond it and exudes a level of acceptance and peace that is amazing, and somehow makes this extremely hard time a little bit easier.
Despite the fact that this next phase of life is no longer available, it should be noted that she lived a beautiful life, with a beautiful family, with lots of adventures, and lots of laughter. And, of course, in addition to her friendships and relationships, it’s her career that is truly her legacy.
She began teaching in 1971, so this marks her 50th year of teaching high school English. In those 50 years she has inspired and touched the hearts of thousands of people. For those of you who have worked with her or were taught by her, you know I do not say that merely as a platitude or kind gesture. She is the queen, the jester, and the servant of the classroom. It is impossible to pay tribute to her as an educator. Her standard of care and work quality is ridiculous; her work ethic unlike anything I’ve ever encountered. My entire life, from as early as I can remember until now, she never ever rested from school. Preparing every day to create the greatest day of class that she could. And slaving over grading essays, nights and weekends — no essay ever just given a quick grade, but always a fully marked up paper with as much feedback and guidance as she could provide. She went way above and beyond for every student… and parent… and administration. She always subtly and humbly enjoyed hearing these reflections and affirmations from those who gave them. But she could never really accept and take in those well-deserved accolades, not even to this day. I don’t know why. But I do know that proper teaching is one of the most important, inspiring, underpaid, and thankless professions I can think of. It was her life, her passion, her gift.
Francine will pass away in the coming weeks, maybe sooner. I know how devastating this is for those of you who know and love her. She undoubtedly loves you back. And I am so sorry, but we cannot accept visitors at this time. Calls and texts also take too much energy. If you’d like to share something with her, you can send it in one of the following ways. (If you feel like you absolutely need to call or video call, let me know, and I’ll see if we can arrange; however, a recorded video or audio message might be an easier approach.)
-Website for public notes, messages, stories, videos, eulogies, etc: francine.jdavis.online
(if this is not yet operational, check back soon)
-Email: FrancineNDavis@gmail.com
-Mail: 11337 SW 85th Lane, Miami, FL 33173 (real physical letters are nice, but mail might be a bit too slow)
Thank you for your love and support. There’s nothing we need in this moment. It’s very hard to say goodbye, but it’s a blessing to be by her side and to help care for her in this transition out.
Life can be filled with a lot of pain and suffering. It’s also a beautiful gift. So keep celebrating, keep laughing, and don’t sweat the small things.
I recently asked my mother what dying is like. Her response: “surreal.”
Indeed, so surreal,
Jonathan