After reading an article written by a woman who went through breast cancer in her 30s and is, troche at least, still alive to write about it, I cried. Hard. Tears pouring from my eyes as the sobs racked my body. I can’t remember the last time I sobbed so violently. It’s not a pleasant feeling.
I’ve been dealing with a lot of different emotions recently, because of the killer that is called cancer.
It was cancer that took the man I used to go to baseball games with. Cancer threatened to take one of my best friends in 2012. Brain cancer just took my mother’s friend’s husband. Breast cancer took my Grandmother over 15 years ago.
Yesterday was my Grandmother’s birthday.
I spent so long crying yesterday because, while you’d think that with her gone for so many years it would get easier, it never does. As each year passes, I know I’m closer to seeing her again, but I’ve also been all those years without her gentle encouragement and constant love.
There’s just something about this woman. Everyone I know, has tried his or her hardest never to forget her and to hold onto what we can of her. It’s almost as if we are aiming to be just like that little piece we remember.
I remember being a little girl, watching a woman in pain stay strong to the point that, if I didn’t know she was sick, I would have had no idea she was really that sick. I knew she was sick for a while. I knew she wore a wig. Many times I would forget though. She always wore a genuine smile. Who could be so sick for years and never let it show in her outlook or demeanor? My grandmother. And I truthfully have no idea how it wasn’t more evident.
As of November, I will have been without that women for 18 years. She died because she lost her battle with breast cancer.
If you had to ask me whether I’m afraid of losing someone else to it or whether I’m afraid for myself, my answer is “Yes”. I’m afraid of cancer. I’m afraid of how it hurts families and takes them apart. I’m saddened when I hear of those whose body parts are taken off so that doctors can remove a disease that is threatening their lives, yet with the removal of the part, they feel less “human”. I’m saddened when children lose their father and a wife her best friend. I’m saddened when children lose their grandparents, older children their mother and father. I was ripped in two watching Jonathan’s wife and his mother trying to stay strong for him as he struggled, not only physically, but emotionally, spiritually, and mentally as well.
My challenge to you, if you really care about learning about breast cancer (or cancer in general), is to not buy the products in pink. Save the money. Go out and do some research for yourself. Eat well and check yourself. That money that you saved because you didn’t buy an overpriced pink product, that would have only donated pennies… put it towards someone’s treatment. Save a life. Research is still being done, but you could put someone’s mind at ease by helping to pay for that life changing surgery, so that she can focus on getting well. When someone is struggling against cancer, shouldn’t getting well be the main priority?
Megan A.K.A. “Mom”