So this month I had absolutely no motivation to write because my mother is battling breast cancer. And to be honest, I’m still fighting! But in these times, sometimes writing about what you’re going through is the best hing to do. This is not an easy thing to write, but right now it’s the only thing I can write about, as anything else to do with the arts seems trivial at the moment.

Cancer has visited my family more than it ever should. My first memory of hearing the word was when my paternal grandmother was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was in high school. I had no idea of the ramifications, simply that she was sick. At the time, my parents and family spared me the worst of it, as parents usually do to protect their children. Due to complications from divorce, I only saw my grandmother once more and she died shortly after. I wasn’t there and I remember that I had come home from school and wasn’t told anything. My dad (I call my stepfather dad :)) came home from work later that night and asked if I was okay. I said “sure, why?” He was silent. I looked at my mother. Her face was grief-stricken. I repeated the question. “Why?!” She didn’t know how to tell me, but at that moment I knew. I remember dropping to the floor and thrashing and crying uncontrollably for what seemed like hours. It was one of the worst moments in my life at the time, and arguably since then. She was the woman who taught me about my own unique beauty and treated me like a princess, in the best sense. She would always buy me pretty clothes and dresses and would pay a lady to do my hair because when I visited for the summer. She couldn’t do it because her hands hurt from working so hard for so many years. My body is built like hers: big and cushy, but strong. She is the reason why I have an obsession with fancy perfumes, dresses, and shoes.

It visited my family again right before I moved away to NYC to start graduate school. This time it was my maternal grandfather and esophageal cancer. He and my grandmother smoked for years and this was an unfortunate side effect. He was such a strong influence in my life and always told me wear house shoes so that my feet wouldn’t get big. It didn’t work! 🙂 I have the biggest feet ever. The last time I saw him, he was in the hospital and could barely speak. I remember being asked to sing for him and could barely keep it together. I sang the Habanera from Carmen. Completely inappropriate, but it was the only thing that popped into my head at the time. I remember seeing tears well up into my grandfathers eyes while I was singing and I lost it. I knew that it would be the last time I would see him alive. To this day, no one can pull off a Kangol hat and glasses like my grandad, not even Samuel Jackson. 🙂

Cancer – 2, My family – 0. I was really beginning to loathe this disease.

Fortunately, it would be a while before it would visit my family again to test us. During this truce period, we went on with our lives as any family does. We worked, traveled, some had babies, some changed jobs, others got married. I relocated, thrice and made important debuts (#artistlife). Gained weight, lost it again. We had disagreements, reunions, love, disappointments, and triumphs. Everything that happens on a daily basis in the world.

But cancer is patient, and malicious. Just as I was finishing up my time in California, my grandmother started to become ill and learned that she had breast cancer. Thankfully, it was caught early and he doctors were able to catch it. However, the COPD and it’s accompanying illness from years of smoking could not be caught. My grandmother left this world while I was working on Eugene Onegin. She was so sassy, incredibly, smart, a pioneer in her field. She was the woman who intimidated me most in life, until I grew up and realized that I was just like her. She was strong but warm, loving, and incredibly loyal. She traveled and saw things, even when she had to wheel an oxygen tank behind her, she went on a cruise. When she died, I felt like the anchor that tethered me to the world was severed. I had lost the three grandparents I’d known. That was five years ago and I’ve actually never quite recovered. Watching my mom grieve was incredibly painful and then having to move away to Berlin after that shook my world a lot more than I’ve admitted, even to myself. I’ve battled depression through all of this. It comes and goes, and has come again. I didn’t know it until I knew and named it.

And now as I write this, I’m sitting in the radiologists office, waiting for my own mother to have her daily radiation treatment. Cancer has again visited my family, but this time we were on the lookout and caught it early. But, even though it’s not life threatening this time, it still had taken a huge emotional toll. When my mom first told me that her mammogram had come back abnormal, my breath caught. I thought “please God, not again.” And she got a secondary screening and biopsy. Waiting for those results was some of the worst time of any of our lives. But then again, the waiting is always the hardest part. It was especially frustrating being so far because I couldn’t get to my family. FINALLY the news came one early Saturday morning, around 1 am that the lump they found was indeed cancerous. I felt something between relief and horror, because I remember hanging up the phone with my parents and passing out immediately on my bed. The body simply can’t take prolonged stress. Such an obvious thing, but it’s a lesson I wish I’d learned a lot earlier. When I woke up the next day, I felt like I was just going through the motions. I was in full panic mode and knew I had to get home to my family. This is my mother and we have been through, literally, hell and high water together. Being here with her and seeing what she has to go through medically, emotionally, financially, spiritually has been a revelation. My mom is stronger than I think I will ever be, even though she says I am. I wouldn’t have half the grace to go through this and still smile and play Wii tennis and dance. I mean, seriously my mom is pretty freaking awesome.

So, my takeaway is this:

I must cherish the people in my life while they’re here. The old saying that you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone is true. I must be absolutely proactive and vigilant about my health. Not to point of hypochondria of course, just aware. So far I’ve coasted and kind of failed. No more time for that. Most importantly I must learn how to weather the obstacles of life with grace and tenacity. None of the people I know who’ve fought through horrors in life just lay there and wallowed and stopped living their lives. So, I’m not allowed to, not matter how tempting it is to be sad and stay there. We will keep moving and keep going.