It is with sadness that I post a memorial for our dear Quitnet friend @Carol T., who passed away on Wednesday after struggling for more than one year with lung cancer.  
Carol quit smoking 11 years ago and had encouraged many at the Q, including me, with her wit and grit! She was a wonderful storyteller and thoughtful friend. Her daughter, Eliza, has written some thoughts and memories of Carol for us at the Q. If you would like to leave comments about our friend, Carol T., on this post or send private messages to me for her daughter, I will pass them along. 
For giving her the freedom to be honest when she so desperately needed it. I have so much gratitude in my heart for all of you. 
My mom passed away on Wednesday 5/24 after fighting for one year and one and a half weeks against aggressive  Initially when she was diagnosed she refused to tell anyone except for myself and my husband. I was honored to have her trust. She gave me an incredible gift by putting her trust in me and I did everything in my power to honor her wishes. However I felt that she needed more than just my husband and myself in her corner and eventually, much to my relief, she agreed. 
After 8 months of being her secret keeper and support we got the news that her cancer had metastasized and was now in her brain. She reached out to all of you first and was met with such love that it gave her the strength to tell a small group of friends. 
She first underwent a lobectomy of the left lung. This was in June of 2016. Her recovery was long, painful and had many set backs but initially following the surgery she was deemed cancer free. She had a solitary dose of chemotherapy after the surgery that left her in stage 4 kidney failure until the end of her life.  
Evetually her six-month pet scan was scheduled for the end of December and as of a CT scan in November she was still cancer free. By the end of December when the pet scan results came in the cancer had returned and the new mass was larger than the original. 
Unfortunately when she went in for another surgery in January the tumor had grown even more and was now in the main pulmonary artery so it could not be resected. We found out a couple of weeks after the failed surgery that the cancer had also metastasized. 
Over following months she underwent radiation for the brain lesions, immunotherapy and finally several rounds of chemotherapy. She never once stopped fighting or believing that she could beat it. I think her incredible stubbornness and steely resolve (the same character traits that caused us to butt heads constantly) helped to keep her alive. Despite how sick the treatments made her the only time she ever came close to complaining was when she started to lose her hair. That she absolutely could not tolerate. 
My mom was a WAC (Women’s Army Corp). She was an MP (military police) in the army during the Vietnam era. As evidenced by her voluntary service to her country in a time when the overall sentiment toward the military was less than favorable she was never afraid to go against the grain. Mom marched to her own drummer. She idolized her Father who served with the Army during WWII and wanted to follow in his footsteps which is in part why she enlisted.  
She was the spitting image of her Mother and the only one of her siblings with blond hair and her mother's hazel green eyes. 
In high school she played the saxophone and studied German for years. Her first year of college was spent in Germany and she longed to return there some day. When she left Germany she spoke fluent German so well that the Germans thought her to be a native.  
She was an incredible seamstress and made all of her own clothes starting in high school and until sometime in her 20's. She was also skilled in needlepoint and created beautiful tapestries. When I was growing up she made dresses for my dolls that matched my own clothes and every year at Halloween I had a new costume that she had worked on for months. I don't think that I've ever owned a store bought costume thanks to her gifted hands. 
To honor her Middle Eastern heritage, Sometime in the early 80's she took belly dancing lessons and eventually started competing. Naturally she made her costume- it was gorgeous and incredibly detailed. Eventually she stopped sewing and focused her creative energy on baking.  
This woman could create the most delicate confections and savory breads that would make the angels weep. After she was diagnosed with Celiac Disease sometime around 90/91 she worked hard to develop a flour blend and bread recipes that actually tasted like bread. She had so many people requesting her delicious gluten free baked goods that she started a small catering company. She volunteered tirelessly with the celiac disease foundation for years.  
While I was growing up, about every month and a half she'd take me out to have ice cream sundaes for dinner. For someone who didn't care much for sweets she firmly believed in having dessert for dinner. She loved to read and passed that on to me along with so many other gifts. I've often teased her about her choice of reading material- romance novels. My mom had a romantic streak that was very sweet. Her sense of humor was wickedly sharp. She baked constantly but rarely ate sweets.  
Her birthday was on Christmas Day and coming from such a large family never had a birthday party until she went to college. To compensate for that my Mom and I started a tradition where we celebrated Christmas in the morning and the afternoon and evening we're set aside for her birthday and included a birthday cake and dinner of her choosing.  
She was stubborn, bullheaded and stood firm in her convictions. We clashed constantly and were the exact opposite in our political views among many other things. Despite our vast differences we were incredibly alike and often had conversations lasting several hours at a stretch and we laughed constantly. We teased each other mercilessly. I have a very dark and dry sense of humor which really comes out when I'm stressed. We spent hours in her hospital room making "yo' momma" jokes about cancer and making up inappropriate stories about creepy nurses who take photos of peoples bums to sell on the internet.