Gone but Never Forgotten
We had just picked up my grandmother from her doctor 's appointment, and everyone in the car knew something didn’t go right there. I am in the very back of my mother’s silver van, and I couldn’t hear what they were saying. All of a sudden my mom pulls over and they all start to cry, and I just sit in the back unaware of what was said. I felt terrible, I just stayed quiet. We start driving again, and there is an awkwardness in the car. “How?” I hear my mother say in between a couple of tears.
“I don’t… I can’t believe… How am I supposed to…?” I can only hear parts of what my grandma responds.
We get to our house, and I could tell if I were to say something it wouldn’t improve the situation in any way. The doctors had told her they found stage 4 pancreatic cancer. I am only 12, I don’t understand what cancer even is, all I know it is bad. What does stage 4 mean? Can’t she just go to chemotherapy and make it all better? What’s going to happen to my grandma? November 14, 2010, she found this out, and she couldn’t lose hope in herself. All of our family was determined to be there for her every step of the way, I was determined to be there for her no matter what. In January, the doctors didn’t know how to approach her cancer. They had decided to start putting her on chemotherapy. I really didn’t know how to handle this. Personally, all the stories I have heard about chemo have ended in death. The last thing I wanted for my grandma was her
An ambulance came and carried out my mom. I didn’t know what was going on, so many questions running through my mind, what was wrong with her, was she going to be ok. I was scared, more scared then I had ever been. My sister Sheridan who was 8 asked me “what’s happening?” through tears. On that day a little piece of me began to change because if I let her see my fear that would not help anyone, and so even though I didn’t know what was happening I responded “everything is going to be ok” even though I did not trust my own words.
I walked away feeling like I was a complete failure and that I didn’t deserve to go on. On the way home my mother tried to talk to me, but, I put on my headphones and cried silently. Once we were home my father asked how it went. The tears that were in my eyes and they became more evident as my shoulders and chest were shaking and trembling. The only sound in the room was the sound of me crying and wailing. I started crumbling and falling to the ground and my mother and father rushed to my side. They held me until the tears came to a stop and a little bit afterwards
That day when I returned home from school, my mom’s boyfriend called me asking to speak to my grandmother. Typically, Gus would call my grandmother himself if he wanted to speak with her, which was rare. I found out about my mom going to the hospital from my grandmother after that phone call. The doctor told my family that a stroke afflicted her in the middle of the day. My mom confused the date with her birthday, had trouble getting words out and remembering our family member’s names. The nurse had to take her for walks periodically and exercise her legs and arms because they were weak. Seeing my mother in this condition made me appreciate my mother and everything she does for me tremendously. However, I was terrified for my mother’s health.
Around six to three months before this tragedy occurred, my grandpa’s health had taken a turn for the worst. We would be awake at midnight, hearing him violently vomit crimson colored fluid. He couldn't get up or walk without my mother or grandma’s assistance. A brutal cough would take both his breath and voice away. Yet, he was so understanding and caring of both my brother and I. He would do everything he could to play with me or tell me a story, since he knew that I didn’t know any better. A couple months before his passing, I came home from school to find no one home except my anxious looking aunt and my then three-year old cousin. I remember running to my grandparents’ room to greet my grandparents, but when I opened the door, no one was there. I ran to my aunt and asked her where everyone was. I could see in her face that she was worried, but she tried to be as calm as possible so she wouldn’t scare me.
The doctor came into the room and said, “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you have stage four Breast Cancer.” Hopelessness, confusion, and disbelief were all the emotions running through my aunt’s head. Finding optimism in every situation is not an easy thing to do when challenges are thrown our way, but optimism is the one thing we turn to for hope in every situation. Throughout life there are many obstacles that are thrown at us that we, as humans, have to overcome, and it is not easy to do. Staying positive and thinking of what good is to come in life is what helps many people get through the hard times.
After many chemotherapy sessions, it became clear that the chemo was truly killing her! Of course, when you are in a situation where your life is involved you begin to do any an everything that comes to mind to help the big problem. With that being said, granny flew to Houston Texas to the cancer center to begin a new type of chemo. Once she arrived in Houston she decided she no longer wanted to go through with chemo, she told us she believed that we needed to put it in the Lords hands and let him handle
Cancer is a frightening topic, the National Cancer Institute states that “more women in America have died of [cancer] in the last two decades [than in WW1 and WW2 combined]”. It’s no wonder the word alone can bring anguish to many, there is still much we don’t understand about cancer. It wasn’t until recently that we began to noticed a trend of disease in my family. My grandmother Olga Losoya Suarez passed away in August of 2015 to colon cancer at the age of 75. As one can imagine this was devastating as she was the center of the family, always bringing everyone together on the holidays. Soon disaster struck again as my grandmother on my father’s side, Carolina Tovar, passed from pancreatic cancer in June of 2016 at the age of 71. Although most of the family felt a mixture of emotions, one that dominated the rest was concern. My parents, Aunts, and Uncles concerned that cancer was becoming more prominent in our family sought checkups from their doctors. My Aunt Linda informed
It all started in …… when the chemo stopped working and when surgeries were a normal thing for Grandma Botbyl. Being a thirteen year old and getting told that your grandma has cancer again for the second time was a rough start my seventh grade year. Being diagnosed and then misdiagnosed with cancer was something I couldn’t trust anymore, and I couldn’t trust the doctors at this point. Moving from doctor to doctor, trying to find an answer to all of these problems that are being caused was hard. Cancer is moving from place to place, left and right, until …. came around. Growing up with both of my grandmas struggling and dealing with cancer, I got an idea of how the long journey would go. After the latest surgery to remove all the cancer from Grandma Botbyl, I got to witness the loving family in the crowded hospital room all together feeling God’s presence able to call Grandma Botbyl ‘cancer free.’
My great-grandma was diagnosed with incurable cancer in her esophagus. While initially I did not understand the seriousness of the disease, I was devastated when I realized that she was going to depart in a couple of months. I was deeply disturbed
I knew from that point on everything was going to be okay and she was a fighter. After a few weeks of chemo she was able to go back home and take care of herself again. I didn’t want to bother her or make her tired so I tried not to ask as many questions or talk as much. On our last real morning together she woke me up and asked me, is it coffee for one or two? I smiled and said make it two I had a rough night. She laughed at me and said one it is and milk and honey for the youngest nurse I’ve ever had.as we always did we had our morning talk, but this talk was different. She told me, if anyone ever asks about me tell them my name was Ruth Mae Marks I was born a Simmons and I was a fighter. I raised all of my girls to be fighters just like me. I looked at her with a confused face as she smiled at me and said, my life was spent work all day until you came along and I had a reason to retire. She told me every morning I gave her something to live for just because she knew I would always be there waiting for her. I started to cry because I knew this was her good bye, she told me tears were made of salt and salt was made for cooking not running down your face. This was the morning I learned how to make red velvet cake and the last morning I got to talk with my grandmother. As much as I miss her I’m glad she’s at peace. Every day I spend my mornings talking to her in hopes that she hears me and I’m making her proud of me. She made me a fighter and a strong believer that I can overcome
I was eight when it all happened. I knew that my grandma was ill but being a clueless little kid i never quite understood the severity of her sickness. I remember when my dad first told me that my grandma was sick, i didn't think anything of it i honestly thought he just meant that she came down with the flu. We’d visit frequently, and every time i'd always tell my dad i didn't know what he was talking about because she seemed completely fine. Her face still brightened with a the happiest glow when she saw me and my sisters. She still loved to teach us how to bake, even though by the end of it her once neat and tidy kitchen, was now a total mess. She didn't care though because our
Three weeks prior to the call, my grandma had just been diagnosed with stage 3 throat cancer on top of her already hard diagnosis of MS, otherwise known as multiple sclerosis. She was on so many pills for her MS that barely even helped het that it had taken a bit of convincing to even get her to agree to fight the cancer. She told everyone in the family that she was tired and it didn't help matters that she refused to
It was a bone chilling January night; my mom received a call at about 11:15 PM, a call that changed my life forever. My Aunt June was on the other line. She was crying so hard my mother could barely understand her. Through the sobbing my mom finally understood that Brian, my cousin, had been in a horrible accident and she didn’t know how bad it was. My mother jumped out of the bed after she hung up the phone. She screamed up the stairs at my sister and me; it was a nerve shrilling scream. I could hear fear in her voice. My mom was always yelling at us growing up if we forgot to do something. She would even get us out of bed to finish something that wasn’t done completely. This particular
It was May 17th, 2011, it was a normal school day when my brother and I were told that my mom called to say that she was picking us up early. I was anxious, wondering why we were going home early and breaking our usual routine. When my mom came to get us, the first thing that I noticed was that she didn’t greet us with her usual smile. I was 9 years old, very observant, but not able to sense what was to come. We got into the car, when I asked my mom where we were going hoping
This time it was different. It is the end of September; 15 days before my birthday. My voice is quiet and weak when I answer my mom’s call. I remember how clear and strong my mother sounded on the other line when she said, “You need to come home, grandpa is not doing well and he needs to see you.” Instantly, I felt a knot in my throat and breathing was just impossible. I pressed my lips together so she couldn’t hear the constant sadness rising in my voice and I just murmured, “Mhm” while I already opened my laptop to look up the next flight from Philadelphia to Munich.