Taken Too Soon…

Walking up the steps approaching my cousin’s house I felt a wave of what felt normal. Walking in, I saw the familiar faces that I have grown and made countless memories with and the smell of tasty food and the sound of laughter and hellos filled the house. It was a family gathering that was what should have been normal, but would possibly never be normal again. I looked and didn’t see the person I wanted to, she wasn’t there, the air we were breathing was not shared with her. Her presence should have been with us, but we could all feel that it was absent. This was the moment that it really started to hit me, hit me that this might have to be the new family normal.

She was still with us during this gathering, it may have been in a bed with a lot of cords connected to her and the nurses coming in and out, but we knew she was still with us. She should have been at this gathering for her grandson’s birthday, but her health timeline had another plan. I wanted to see her here, to hug her, to witness her laugh at the same jokes her sons were making like we were.

Have you ever thought about a bad situation, and think that it could never happen to you? Knowing it is very possible for you to be in that position in some way, but there is no way you will ever deal with that? Like, you were magically guarded from it? I thought that about cancer. I figured there was no way that I could lose someone I loved to the evil C word. Her son has dealt with cancer many times now. That has been a difficult time for my family and him, but he has been kicking its ass and is going strong. So it did happen. Though I thought that was that.

I thought it was the worst thing my family would have to deal with, but because the world works in mysterious ways, it decided it wasn’t done with my family. So, I learned that unfortunately, those bad situations that you never think will happen to you.. they do.

The word cancer really hits me in a new way now. I used to know it sucked, and that it was the reason for so many deaths, that it causes a lot of pain and fear, but without experiencing the pain of a loved one dying from it, you really don’t know just how truly bad it sucks.

There were thousands of emotions going through my family as we all sat in the lobby outside her room. It was days of sitting across from one another sharing memories, laughing to distract us and bring us to another place for a few moments until we snapped back to reality. Day after day we walked in her room to sit by her side and absorb the unknown amount of moments we had left with her. Walked in, then back out when we needed to break down in tears and we didn’t want her to see us being weak.

I remember the moment I walked in her room for the first time with my sister and mother. She gave me a big smile right when I looked at her, and it made me so happy. Standing there looking in her eyes smiling at her, she couldn’t talk much, but she didn’t need to. She said it through her eyes. We sat and watched TV with her, caught up on what was going on in life, and exchanged looks and memories. As I walked out at the end of that day, before leaving, I turned and blew her a kiss and she blew one back.

She wanted us to be strong, to know that she did not like what was happening, but she accepted it and wanted us to accept it as well. Easier said than done. It was a family reunion that was not wanted. Aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces, grandchildren. We were all together again to go through this difficult time together. We came, we left, we stayed, we returned, until the moment came to say goodbye.

It didn’t feel real for the longest time, even after her death. It felt like I would see her at Thanksgiving, Christmas, and all the grandbabies birthdays in the family. I cried every day, from the moment I woke up to a text about her condition, and weeks after she passed in front of my eyes. The only thing I kept thinking to myself was that it wasn’t fair. None of this is fair. Why is this happening?

My aunt passed away from stage 4 pancreatic cancer on October 18, 2019. On that day I stood in her hospital room along with her sons, sisters, in-laws, and more, along with all the thoughts of the rest of her loved ones. I watched as her body was fighting to breathe. My other aunt sat by her side as she slowly turned her head to look at her as a tear rolled down her cheek. My mother stood by her holding both their hands and having a last moment of the three of them together. My aunt wiped the tear away and told her she was right there. It was just a few moments later that we were all by her side as she took her last breath.

I wrote this on April 28, 2020, her birthday, but it has taken me a bit of time to finish. I have found myself writing, deleting, and mostly just staring at my computer feeling this emptiness because I never thought I would be writing about this. I never thought I would find myself writing about cancer taking my aunt’s life too soon, and it has made me take a step back while typing all these words and make myself let the fact that she isn’t here anymore sink in. So since her birthday I sit and stare at the screen with a blank face, trying to face the reality of the words in front of me.

I have learned a lot of things since her death up to this moment many months later. I have learned to never take anything or anyone for granted, because you never know the last you may see them. I would do anything to have her at a family event again, laughing with her, drinking some drinks with her while watching some FSU football.

I have learned to cherish your family and the ones that you hold close to your heart, because one day you might wake up without them.

I have learned that thing, that you think will never happen to you, I learned it can, and it might. It happened to me.

My aunt Becky was an amazing person. She lit up any room that she walked into and made everyone in the room smile. She is truly missed and always will be.