"At least it's not cancer! You have to look on the bright side!"

I cannot count how many times I have heard these words or their companions in the past month and a half. My brother, my partner in crime, my biggest fan, was diagnosed with a brain tumor in April. It was a blow to our whole family. He was only 24. This shouldn't have been happening. We were devastated.

Then came the fun part: telling people. I couldn't really keep it a secret when I was showing up to classes with tears running down my face or when I was missing work for his surgeries. He made it public on Facebook about a week before his first surgery and the prayers flooded in. The condolences flooded in. The sympathy flooded in. The "bright side" flooded in.

With each new person we told, we were met nearly every time with the exclamation that at least it was not cancer. I was told by so many people that things could be worse. At one point, I began to cry telling someone about it and they said, "But it's not cancer, so you don't need to be so upset."

No. No. No. No.

Don't get me wrong, I was very relieved and grateful that it was not cancer; however, that did not take away from the pain I was feeling. I was being told that because things could have been worse, my feelings were not valid. My brother was still going in for a 9-hour invasive brain surgery. I was allowed to be upset about that, but people kept telling me to "just stay positive."

I get it. Positivity helps. Yes, that's been proven. That doesn't mean, however, that we cannot grieve when appropriate. There is still pain and loss in this world. We are not meant to be robots who do not feel. We certainly are not meant to feel only the good or even the superficial.

There is nothing wrong with feeling sad or angry or upset or hurt or betrayed as long as you don't let those things consume you. So let me grieve. Let me feel my real emotions.

I was finally getting over everyone telling me to stay positive when it happened. Two days before my birthday. We thought we were in the clear. No seizures in about a month. Two surgeries down. Recovery was going well.

I got the call. It is cancer.

Now, where were all those 'comforting' remarks about how "at least its not cancer"?

I got so angry. I was scared for my brother and our family. I was angry at everyone who had tried to reassure me with attempts at positivity. I felt betrayed, because after all of that- it was cancer. It's sad that my first thought when my mom said the c-word was "oh, I can be sad now."

My ability to grieve had been taken away from me. I felt cheated. It took me back to when my Papa Dewey passed away nearly a year ago. Everyone kept telling me not to be sad because he was in a better place.

Okay, that's great. Yes, I believe that he's out of pain now and is probably having the best time dancing with Jesus. That does not take away my pain. That does not take away the fact that I am a selfish human being who misses him everyday.

The same is true in any trial and hardship. There are always things people will tell us are positives to the hard situations. And they're probably right.

Those good things do not negate the pain we feel, though. Our pain is very real. We cannot go through every situation in denial. We cannot focus only on the good, because there is unfortunately not only good in this world. We have to be open to genuine emotions. We have to be real and vulnerable.

And please do not misread this: I really do appreciate all of the prayers and kind words my family and I have received in this time. This article is not to take away from that. This article is to remind us, myself included, that it is okay to grieve. It is okay to feel the pain of a broken world.

I love you, Bub.