This year however it has been particularly hard since this time last year we found out that my favorite aunt had cancer. I had just cleared the table and was putting away the left overs from Easter dinner when the phone rang. It was my mom. My mom doesn't call here. She is still in Sweden and dialing all those numbers including country code never really turns out right. My body froze and I knew it was bad news. "It is Maritha", she said. "She has cancer". I took a deep breath and forced myself to listen without reacting. It can be cured, I kept telling myself. Get all the facts and then we'll figure out a plan and go from there. But the facts kept coming like punches to your gut, crushing my hopes. It's cancer, everywhere, tumors in the brain, inoperable, cancer in the lungs, inoperable, no hope, nothing they can do. I let the air out of my lungs and started sobbing. How can this be happening? She is only forty one. This is not happening! But it was.
She was given two weeks to live. The tried radiation to try to shrink the tumors in her brain which was causing her to slip in and out of consciencess. She responded well and was able to come home but within a week she was back at the hospital again. She was so ill she couldn't remember to take the pills that would make her better so naturally she got worse which made it harder for her to remember to take the pills and she spiraled downwards until we were sure we were loosing her any day now. I was beside myself. Here I am thousands and thousands of miles away. I can't even jump on a plane because who is going to watch the kids and will I even make it there before she passes? But she pulled through. She was moved to hospice care and with medication and care she got better. She was still dying and there was still nothing they could do but she was better. I sent her a huge care package of all of her favorite things and she made every single nurse in the hospital come into her room to ooh and aaaah while she opened it.
My husband was able to take family leave and I jumped on plane to see her. I spoke to her doctor before I boarded the plane. He told me she was stable but he could make no guarantees. It was a 16 hour flight and I didn't sleep a wink. I did however drink anything they handed to me which in hindsight might not have been the best since traveling on a train the next day with a hangover wasn't that great but it was okay, I was on my way and things would be okay. I didn't cry when I saw her. I didn't allow myself. She was so frail looking. Small, shrunken and swollen, but she was there, she was alive and I hugged her for a long, long time. We talked for hours, about nothing. Everything except cancer. She kept refusing to talk about it and I had to respect that. I spent two weeks with her and I only left her side to sleep. I managed to find a wheel chair that was comfortable enough for her to sit in and we went for walks and ate ice cream and let the sun shine on our faces. We talked about traveling and places we wanted to go and see. She had always been active in the midevil fair circuit and when we found out that one was coming to a city not too far away I turned the hospital inside out to find a medical transport that could take us there. We dressed up in period costume, my mom, my other aunt and Maritha and I and we had a blast. We ate good food, we laughed and for a few precious moments cancer was not on our mind. The day after I left to go back home. We hugged each other tight, not wanting to let go. I could feel the tears fill my eyes up because I knew this was the last time I would see her and hold her and I whispered in her ears that I loved her and that I was going to miss her so much. She smiled and whispered, "I know, this is it but don't tell them I know".
I cried the whole way home and much of the next day. She held on for three more months before the cancer finally took over her body to the point where she went in and out of consciencess and surrounded by the people that she loved and loved her slipped away from us for good. I didn't attend her funeral. I couldn't. But I sent flowers, her favorites, and I know that the funeral was beautiful but it wasn't for me. Instead I took my two kids and my husband to the beach, we brought two dozen fuschia balloons (her favorite color) and let them go and as we did I could almost hear her whisper in my ear. "I know , I love you too".
It is has been over a year now and I still miss her. She was my "someone". That someone who gets you no matter what. You don't need to talk about it, they just get it. A look across the room, a hug, or a squeeze of hand . She got me and now she is gone. But I know she watches out for me and I know she loves me and I remember I am lucky because I got to know her and love her.
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