A teenage girl’s heartbreaking essay about losing her mother to cancer has gone viral on the internet, bringing readers to tears.
Ryan Harman, who recently graduated from West Virginia University, shared an essay she wrote for English class on TikTok, saying it made her professor cry.
She wrote that she had just graduated from high school when her mother started to get worse and shared how she spent the last few months at her mother’s side.
Now, Harman wrote, every day she tries to make her mother proud and is “so incredibly grateful to have the best angel watching over me.”
Her video has now been viewed more than 13 million times, garnered almost 2 million likes and more than 45,000 comments, including one saying, “Your English teacher isn’t the only one who cried.”
“It’s so beautifully written.”
Ryan Harman, who recently graduated from West Virginia University, shared an essay she wrote for English class on TikTok, saying it made her professor cry
Harman wrote about how her mother succumbed to sarcoma cancer last year when she was just 18 years old
Harman’s mother was diagnosed with sarcoma cancer in January 2021 and underwent radiation and chemotherapy treatments for over a year.
“Each day since the diagnosis, she lost a different part of her life,” Harman writes in her essay, describing her late mother as “strong, resilient, loving, caring, and most of all, the best mother anyone could ask for.” ‘
When Harman graduated from high school in Maryland in May 2022, the teen said her mother didn’t get out much.
Still, she was able to watch Harman walk across the stage and accept her diploma, even though “it was a lot on her.”
To celebrate her accomplishments, Harman said she and her friends took a week-long beach trip.
“All week long while I was gone, I would text my mom, tell her about all the drama that was going on with all my friends, and facetime with her.” “Until Friday came and my mom didn’t responded more to my texts and FaceTime calls,” she wrote.
“I was a little worried and considered texting my dad to see if she was ok, but I gave it up and went on with my last night at the beach.”
When she returned home the next day, Harman said she was excited to tell her family all about the trip.
“Instead I came home to my mom in bed and my dad sat me and my two older siblings down and told us that our mom wasn’t feeling well and she was very worried,” the teen recalled.
“At the time I thought my dad would freak out and exaggerate and that she would be fine.”
But instead her father took her mother to the hospital, where family doctors told the family that her spine was 75 percent collapsed because the tumors were growing so rapidly by this point, and she was placed in a hospice.
“I was in shock for the first few days after she came into the hospice,” Harman said. “I didn’t think my mother would die when I was only 18.”
She recalled texting her older sister asking if her mother was really dying and when her sister said she was dying in the next few weeks: “From then on I knew I had the time left would use.” my mother and have no regrets.
“I didn’t want to look back on the past few weeks spent with my mom and be like, ‘I wish I had more time with her,’ so I did everything in my power to protect my future self from regret .”
Harman said she was lying in bed with her mother, holding her hand as friends and family came to check on her.
“I couldn’t imagine what my life would be like,” Harman wrote.
“My mother reminded us every day that she loves us and that she wants us to carry on after her death.
“She told us: ‘When I take my last breath, I want you to dance, not cry, but dance.’
In her essay, Harman described her mother as “strong, resilient, loving, caring, and most of all, the best mother anyone could wish for.”
Harman wrote that her mother loved spending time at the beach because it meant spending time with her three children
In the weeks that followed, Harman said she overheard her mother speaking to her late grandmother, telling her that she would be seeing her soon.
Sarcoma cancer – a rare form of cancer
Sarcomas are a rare group of cancers that arise in the bones and connective tissues such as fat and muscle.
In most cases, it is not clear what causes a sarcoma.
Family history and exposure to chemicals or radiation can increase risk.
“I wouldn’t wish the stress that my family was exposed to on anyone,” the student said. “We were in lockdown spending time with my mum and watching her slowly progress through the different stages of death.”
On July 7, she said, her mother said to her father, “I’m so tired, I have to go, see you later,” and closed her eyes.
“My dad came down the stairs and told us we all had to say our last goodbyes,” Harman said.
“I started pacing back and forth. “I didn’t want to say goodbye to my best friend.”
Eventually, however, she began “my journey up the stairs with tears streaming down my cheeks and I stopped, I couldn’t.”
Finally, after crying for a moment in her parents’ bathroom, Harman “went over to my mom, kissed her on the forehead and told her I’d see her later and that I love her.”
But later her mother opened her eyes.
“I was upset that my mother was still alive.” “I felt like a terrible human being,” she wrote.
At that point, she said her father decided to put her and her siblings up at her aunt’s house on the beach “because he didn’t want us to see her in that condition anymore.”
Harman said after her mother was admitted to hospice or palliative care, she stayed at her bedside
Harman said she would hold her mother’s hand, as her mother had told her and her siblings to dance as she drew her last breath
But the beach only made her think more about her mother.
“The beach was my mom’s favorite place,” Harman explained. “She sat on the beach every chance she got from 9am to 5pm.
“She would jump at any chance to go to the beach, especially as it would allow her to spend more time with her kids.”
One day Harman said she was sitting on the beach and had a thought I needed to tell my mom, but I realized I couldn’t.
“My mother was alive, but I couldn’t talk to her,” she said. “I felt weak, I didn’t want this to be the end.”
She then decided to return home.
A few days later, while her siblings were at a Jason Aldean concert, Harman said she heard her mother’s “death rattles.”
“I knew today was the day,” she said. “From then on my dad and I took turns going in and checking on her until about 7:30pm.
“We lay in bed with her and found that her skin was freezing,” she said. “I lay there until I couldn’t anymore and then went downstairs.”
“Around 9pm my worst nightmare came true. I heard my father’s footsteps, turned the corner and said, “I think so, I think she’s gone.”
“I had never felt real heartbreak and emptiness like this,” Harman said.
In her powerful essay, Harman recounted how her mother’s condition deteriorated until she finally passed away last summer. She said she now believes her mother is taking care of her
She and her father then had to call their siblings, who were still at the concert.
“We called each of them about 20 times,” said Harman. “My brother finally picked up and we had to tell them on the phone.”
“I heard my sister scream and sob — that’s the moment I realized this is real life.”
When they returned home, Harman wrote, “My sister looked up at me and said, ‘We didn’t answer your calls because we were dancing. We danced as mom drew her last breath, just like she wanted.”
“I felt relieved in that moment,” Harman said, “my mother died exactly the way she wanted and I knew she was no longer in pain.”
“As I continue to live without my mother, I realize that everything I do is to make her proud,” Harman concluded her essay.
“As I am constantly paralyzed by the pain her death causes, I remember how fortunate I am to feel this great pain because my mother was such a phenomenal person.”
“There is nothing I want more than to be able to pick up the phone and call my mother, but I feel at peace knowing that she is watching over me and watching my every move,” she said.
“I celebrate their existence every day and am so incredibly grateful to have the best angel watching over me.”
In another video, she says she couldn’t have made it without her father and shares photos of the two.
Read Ryan Harman’s full essay on losing her mother
my beautiful mother
It was May 2022 when my life was supposed to peak until one day it didn’t. I had my high school graduation and senior week with my senior class at the beach. I was just beginning my adulthood and college career and I couldn’t have been happier. In January 2021, my mother was diagnosed with sarcoma cancer and underwent chemotherapy and radiation. Every day since the diagnosis she lost a different part of her life. She was strong, resilient, loving, caring and most importantly the best mother anyone could ask for. She never asked the doctors about an expectation of time, she wanted to live as well as possible with her three children and her husband. My mom’s goal from the start was to see me at my prom and to see me and my sister, Madeleine, walk the stage at the prom. She has achieved both goals.
On May 26, 2022, I walked this stage at the graduation ceremony while my mother in a wheelchair looked on proudly. As I took that first step on that stage, I felt her overwhelming love and I knew that she was so proud and that was all that mattered in that moment. After graduating, I received a text message saying, “I love you so much and I’m so proud of you.” Those words felt like I’d just won the Superbowl. She didn’t leave the house very often, so being able to attend the graduation ceremony was a great achievement and it took a lot from her. We had a celebratory dinner at home and she was too exhausted to stay up for dinner. While it was upsetting that she wasn’t at dinner, I was just grateful that she was able to be there and achieve her goal.
I was looking forward to going on my week long beach trip with all my best friends that night. Throughout the week while I was gone, I texted my mom, told her about the drama that was going on with all my friends, and Facetimed her. Until Friday came and my mom stopped responding to my texts and Facetime calls. I was a bit worried and considered texting my dad to see if she was ok, but I gave it up and continued on with my last night at the beach.
I was looking forward to coming home and telling my family all about the week I had. Instead, I came home to my mother in bed and my father sat me and my two older siblings down and told us that our mother was not well and was very worried. At the time I thought my dad would freak out and exaggerate and that she would be fine. After much deliberation, my father decided to take her to the hospital. She left her room, went down the stairs and into the car. At the hospital, they told her that her spine was 75% collapsed because the tumors were growing rapidly. I figured my mom was a superstar, she was just walking on a spine that had almost completely collapsed. From that point on, my mother entered the hospice and would not get out of bed.
We called all of our family and friends and let them know that their lives were ending. For the first few days after she entered the hospice, I was shocked. I didn’t think my mother would die when I was only 18 years old. I remember texting my sister Madeleine and asking, “Will mom die?” Her response was, “In a few weeks, yes.” My heart broke into a million pieces. From that point on I knew that I would use the remaining time with my mother and that I would not regret it. I didn’t want to look back on the last few weeks with my mom and think, “I wish I’d spent more time with her,” so I did everything in my power to protect my future self from regret. As friends and family members came over, I lay in bed right next to my mother, holding her hand. I couldn’t imagine what my life would be like. My mother reminded us every day that she loved us and that she wanted us to carry on after her death. She said to us: “When I take my last breath, I want you to dance, not cry, but dance.”
The days began to coalesce as my mother passed out intermittently over the next few weeks. I remember sitting in bed with the door open and my parents’ bedroom door open as well, terrified that I would hear her breathe her last. She started talking in her sleep and told her late mother that she would see her again soon.
I wouldn’t wish the stress my family has endured on anyone. We were in lockdown spending time with my mother and watching her slowly progress through the different stages of death. I was in a mental block, not eating as much as I should have, my main focus was spending as much time with her as possible. On July 7th, my mother said to my father, “I’m so tired I have to go, see you later.” as she closed her eyes. My father came down the stairs and told us that we all had to say our final goodbyes. My older siblings went up first. I started pacing, not wanting to say goodbye to my best friend. I started my journey up the stairs with tears streaming down my cheeks and I stopped, I couldn’t do it. I went to my parents’ bathroom until I worked up the courage to say goodbye. I went to my mother, kissed her on the forehead and told her that I would see her again later and that I loved her.
When word spread that it might be the day of her death, family members came to say goodbye until my mother accidentally woke up. At this point she has been in the hospice for 4.5 weeks. When she opened her eyes, I was upset. I was upset that my mother was still alive. I felt like a terrible person. I walked outside with my heart pounding when I saw my father leaning over crying and talking on the phone. I couldn’t imagine saying goodbye again. My mother stayed up and talking for about five days until she fell back into a state of complete unconsciousness. My father decided to kick me and my siblings out and send us to our aunt’s house on the beach because he didn’t want us to see her in that condition anymore.
The beach was my mother’s favorite place. She sat on the beach every chance she got from 9am to 5pm. She would jump at any chance to go to the beach, especially since it would allow her to spend more time with her kids. She always had a grapefruit crush in her hand and enjoyed the sun. She looked so beautiful on the beach and was in her element. I sat on the beach and thought I had to tell my mom, but I realized I couldn’t. My mother was still alive, but I couldn’t talk to her. I felt weak. I didn’t want this to be the end. I was in tears when my sister said, “Ryan, me and Tommy (my brother) are going to see Jason Aldean on Sunday, do you want to go?” I wanted to go, but for some reason the word “no” just fell out my mouth. From that moment on, all I could think about was my mother. I told my siblings that I wanted to go home that night because I couldn’t be away from Mom anymore.
When we got home, my mother’s status didn’t change. The hospice told us to leave her alone and she would go on her own. A few days after returning home from the beach, I woke up and my siblings were getting ready to go to the concert while me and my father stayed at my mother’s house. I took a nap around 3pm and woke up when my dad came out of her room and said, “Can you check her breathing?” I went in and she had the death rattle, I knew today was the day. From then on my dad and I took turns going in and checking on her until about 7:30am. We lay in bed with her and realized that her skin was freezing. I lay there until I couldn’t anymore and went downstairs. Around 9pm my worst nightmare came true. I heard my father’s footsteps, turned the corner and said, “I think so, I think she’s gone.” I had never felt real heartbreak and such emptiness.
At the concert we had to call my siblings. We called each of them about 20 times. My brother finally picked up and we had to tell them on the phone. I heard my sister scream and sob, that’s the moment I realized that this is real life. Friends and family members flocked in, I met my siblings outside and hugged them in the driveway as they came home from the concert. My sister looked up at me and said, “We didn’t answer your calls because we were dancing. We danced as mom took her last breath, just like she wanted.” In that moment, I felt relief, my mom was dying just the way she wanted, and I knew she wasn’t in pain anymore.
As I continue to live without my mother, I realize that everything I do is just to make her proud. I have matured and grown as an individual. As I am constantly paralyzed by the pain her death causes, I remember being fortunate to feel this great pain because my mother was such a phenomenal human being. I want nothing more than to be able to pick up the phone and call my mother, but I feel the peace of knowing she is watching over me and seeing my every move. She fought her hardest battle for a month and a half to give us the time we so desperately needed to say goodbye to her and for that I will be forever grateful. I celebrate their existence every day and am so incredibly grateful that the best angel is watching over me.