According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, "cancer" is defined as a serious disease caused by cells that are not normal and that can spread to one or many parts of the body; something bad or dangerous that causes other bad things to happen.
This definition could not be any more accurate. The second part of the definition applies to the literal disease inside of its target, yet also applies to the lives on the outside of its target. People hear 'cancer' and immediately associate death with it. Ninety-nine percent of the time they have a valid point for why they think of cancer like that. Sympathy is received and so is support.
When I was 6-years-old, I lost my godmother and a role model of mine, to breast cancer. Though I was so young and naive, the pain was ranked a 10 out of 10. With the help of my family, I eventually understood why she was taken from us, and I had slowly but surely moved on. Her sister, my Aunt Denise had then become my godmother after my Aunt Michele had passed away. Eighteen months later my Aunt Denise, whom I call Auntie, was diagnosed with breast cancer. A nightmare that was thought to have been buried was back again and stronger than ever.
The years rolled by and every so often tears, bad news and fear made appearances in my life. "The cancer is gone" was my favorite four words to receive. We had hope, the fear had disappeared and as a family we felt invincible.
This past year cancer was back and determined to kill. My aunt and my family had no fear. We put our combat boots on and were ready for war. Cancer had been part of our family for way too long and there was no way this disease was going to take another person from us.
See, it's really hard to explain the relationship me and my aunt had. I happened to be born on her birthday so that, in itself, says how similar she and I were. I looked as if I could be her daughter and not my own mother's; there was just something about the love we had for one another. I loved her with every bone in my body, I looked for her for strength and her hugs were the tightest and warmest in the world. She was my best friend, that's all.
This past April, my mom had to sit my sister and I down and tell us that her best friend and our Aunt was going to die. Immediate tears flowed, anger came and unanswerable questions rose. My Aunt, my beautiful Aunt was losing it to this disease. I still had hope, I never lost hope. She seriously seemed invincible. On May 2, my strong, intelligent and beautiful Auntie lost her battle to cancer. Hearing the phone ring at 3 a.m. put an immediate hole in my stomach because I knew what the phone call would be delivering.
My cousins, my aunts and uncles, my sister and my mom are the reason we were able to get through the toughest time of our lives. We became a unit, light spirits and so strong for one another. We all remember the last words we had with our favorite person on this planet.
Though I am still so broken, so angry so confused as to why she had to be one of the many victims to cancer; I am so thankful I was able to say good bye. I helped her die in many ways. I assured that we would be OK, that she would be OK.
Cancer can not take away the beauty of my aunt. Cancer can not take away who my aunt was. Cancer cannot, and will not, erase the memory I have of my aunt.
