Cancer?!

My beloved Aunt, my dad's sister, was diagnosed with cancer on Thursday at the age of 50. They thought it was a small tumor, located in her colon. But upon further testing, they found it in her liver. She met with the oncologist on Friday, and they opted to start chemo right away instead of waiting until they remove the tumors.

The two of us were like two peas in a pod. My dad would say when I was growing up, "Ah! You sound just like my sister!" and when she met me for the first time she held me in her arms and said to my mom, "She's so beautiful! I cannot imagine having a little girl this beautiful, it's only something that I can hope for." Or so says my Mom. We always had a lot in common, very similar personalities. Although the personality traits that we have in common are not those that are favorable by others. We are stubborn, independent, strong, opinionated, often say what we think before thinking, we aren't the best housekeepers...but people love us anyway. I think back, and I wonder how I would have made it through the last year without being stubborn, indepenedent, and strong? Those are the very things that are going to help her get through this challenge.

I want to write her a note, I want to visit her or send a card. But she doesn't want to see anyone just yet. I can understand that. She has three children of her own and a husband that's devoted to her. But in my note, I would like to write that...although the circumstances of my life, particularly last year can't compare to what she is facing, they were both challenges. Things that we had to overcome, a game along the path of life. She will face this challenge head on, and there will be two things she can do. Turn and run in fear, or stay and fight. Fight with all of the stubborness, strength, and independence that the blood running through our veins allows us. It's Clinchy blood, after all. Blood that's thick with those things, but mostly strength. My grandmother is a strong woman almost to the point of being cruel or cold or unemotional, her mother was the same way...although sometimes downright nasty to people she was close to. Thankfully, those things have filtered down through the generations, but there are still traces from time to time. Both my aunt and I posess them, it's just finding the will to bring them out...the will to stand and fight instead of running away screaming.

It's particularly hard for me to have faith in this situation for many reasons. First, I had faith that things would be ok with Dylan and Riley and they weren't. And second, my grandmother died 12 years ago from cancer that started in her pancrias and spread into her liver. The loss of her had a profound effect on my life. I spiraled into a depression that lasted many years partly because of that. It wasn't until I went to Florida that I started to be able to accept the loss of her. I was only 12 years old, but it was a big turning point in my life. One that I will never forget. She was so young, only 68, with 10 grandchildren and another on the way. We worshiped her. We each had a special, different, unique relationship with her. Her and I, we shopped. We played dress up, and she gave me all of her glitzy, old, shoes and fashion jewlery. She painted my nails, and yelled when my grandfather would pull candy out of our ears, "Oh Al, they can't eat candy that's been in their ears!" When he fell asleep in his chair, we would sneak over to him and try to pry the remote out of his fingers before he woke up. She was the leader of our games and our tricks. She gave us the details, and we had to figure out how to acomplish things.

The last time we shopped was for ski pants. I found a magnificent pair of purple ski pants. I adored them. So she sent me into the fitting room, I put them on, and I came out. She knealed down in the middle of the sports store, tugging here and there, then she said the words that no one wants to hear from their grandmother, "Do they fit ok in the crotch?"

The last time I saw her she was in the hospital, feeling better. I thought she was doing better and she would be home soon. I had no idea that it would be the last time that I saw her. She spoke to us, telling us each something special, yelled at my grandfather once more for pulling candy out of our ears, and sent us on our ways with a special I love you.

Three days later she died.

Is it going to be the same with Aunt Deb? Or are things never going to be the same again? Sometimes I think that I would do anything to go back to the way things were. The happiness that we shared at our wedding with everyone close to us there. People were alive and well, happy, smiling. Now it seems as though we have a dark cloud hanging over us. One that we can't shake, can't run from, and it haunts us. But if I went back to that, I wouldn't have had Dylan and Riley. I would not have experienced the things that I did last year, even if they were filled with so much grief at times.

Well...the bottom line I guess is that things can change second by second. Derick and I learned the lesson the hard way last year. It seems as though everyone else is learning the hard way too. Now, of all times, I don't know what to say to her. Or if I should say anything at all. Should I do anymore than hold her hand and hug her when she needs a hug? I don't know. I just don't know.