My great-grandmother, Gram we call her, died of uterine cancer when I was 3/4 years old. I have maybe 2 vivid memories of her and one is truly vivid because of pictures that support the actual fuzziness. She and her husband bought the farm in the Dirty '30's when land was, heehee, dirt cheap. It was here that our family, this awkward, out-spoken, opinionated, laughter filled family that I was raised in starts. It was this farm where I played and worked as a kid. Every Saturday in July, we were in the corn fields at the butt crack of dawn. When it got too hot, we'd stop picking and move to the big tree for cleaning, cooking, and storing all the corn we had picked. It was this farm that raised generations of strong women that I strive every day to make proud and become. It was this farm that gave us our roots and our sweat or tear filled bonds of family. (See the picture for the actual connections)
When I was young, 5 or 6 ish, Jeanie began her fight with breast cancer, and eventually lost the battle when I was 15. That year, 2001, I attended 13 funerals. Mostly older family members who had lived a long full life, some friends' family, and a classmate. It was Jeanie's that affected me most lastingly. Because her funeral was the first time I saw the women in my family for what they truly are: strong, self-sufficient angels who embodied the famous British saying "Keep Calm and Carry On." It was then in the middle of mass that I realized that these women are the legacy I was born into and must become. It was then that I took my first steps into that womanhood.
When I was in middle school, Nana was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was around that time that genetic testing had become available on a consumer scale though still with a hefty price tag. A few of the women had the test ran specifically for BRCA which came back negative. We were surprised but thankful. She fought for 5(?) years before she joined Jeanie my senior year of high school. I still remember the exact moment she passed. I was in Mrs. Rasp's English class supposed to be taking a test, but I dozed off instead. I felt an overwhelming compulsion to lay my head down, so I did. And I dreamt. In this dream, Nana came to me and said goodbye and told me it was my turn to take care of them. I awoke with tears in my eyes to Mrs. Rasp patting my back telling me my mom was on her way to get me. I knew. I knew before mom told me. The secretary let her come to the classroom to get me instead of sending the aid, and I hugged my mom, and we cried in the hallway of my high school. Then I took my new role of support staff. I kept tissues handy, made calls to extended family so immediate could process, grieve and plan the funeral. I rifled through hymns, kept track of people coming and going and who brought what. I learned to anticipate the needs of others around me and tried to be intuitive to them so they didn't have to ask.
Around the time Jeanie died is when Gramma was diagnosed with a cancer so rare it didn't have a name. To this day, all I know is it was a type of lymphoma. She suffered for only 3 years before she passed away. I was in Lubbock, having the time of my life my freshman year of college, and I wasn't there to see her deteriorate. I wasn't there in my role of support staff prior to her passing. Once I got home for Christmas, I knew how dire the situation was and didn't truly go back to school until 2 weeks into the next semester. I had friends that came to the hospital before she passed and friends that came to her wake and funeral after while I helped my mom plan the funeral, but I was neither the obviously grieving nor the support staff this time. I was in limbo and didn't know my role. I still feel the guilt of not being there before. When and if I pray, I don't pray to God. I pray to her. I ask for her forgiveness, guidance, and watchful eye. I began to question if I had the stuff in me that made her so strong.
During this time, my mom and Suzi both had scares and benign tumors removed from different areas of their bodies. Jessi and myself have both had lumps found in our breasts that turned out to just be fibrous tissue that needs to be monitored regularly. I learned I have the strains of HPV that cause cervical cancer and thus am being seen regularly for prevention sake.
Then 2-3 years ago, my uncle was diagnosed with renal lymphoma. Prior to this we had all assumed that it had something to do with chemicals on the farm. Mike being diagnosed surprised us. He got off the farm early, and he was a he. Our previous hypothesis was kinda shot to hell. During this time i got engaged at his house; my husband and I were married by him. But now here we are, Labor Day weekend and the family is descending for what seems to be the last weeks(hopefully) he has. He's had 2-3 emergency surgeries this week that have left him doing better than expected but we are all working around to the conclusion that this is it. It's just time that we are biding.
This time I'm back in my role of support staff. I'm designated driver, gopher, and all around runner. This time around I know I am becoming the woman I looked up to so many years ago. I just hope one day that I have a daughter that is lucky enough to see and remember her MiMi and the woman she is. I hope one day to pass on this legacy of strong women that carry the world on their shoulders with dignity and grace. I know that at some time in my life this damned disease will claim me, so all I can do until then is aim for that same legacy and hope I make the rest of them proud.
