But my aunt — the one I grew up next door to, the one who drove me home from school every day — has a rare incurable cancer that’s going to take her from us sooner than later, and we are all devastated. Honestly, I can’t rein it in. Not this time.
If there’s one thing I learned when I had cancer, it’s that you need your family and friends most of all at times like these, so I went to the hospital to visit her. I brought along a drawing of flowers that my sixth grader had made for her, and a “Cancer Card,” created with my seventh grader, that grants its bearer the right to use it whenever and wherever she needs to “you know, play the Cancer Card.” The first one made her tear up. The second one made her laugh.
The whole heart-wrenching ordeal reminds me of a hike we took during a recent trip to Mohonk Mountain House (Thanks, Mom!), when I got in over my head on a “trail” (really, just a lot of harrowingly steep rocks) called the Labrynth. Somehow, I’d pictured it as a maze made from hedges leading to a leisurely walk up to the tower that overlooks the lake and the hotel, so I agreed to go along with my husband and the boys. Instead, it was, for me anyhow, a too-tough climb in bare-treaded sneakers, relying on weakened muscles that have only started to work out after months of sitting it out — doctor’s orders. Unfortunately, once my family was into it, there was no turning back.
My husband the marathon runner trekked behind me the whole way, making sure that I stepped in all the right places.
After sliding down boulders on my butt, praying that my cell phone didn't fall through the cracks, there was an oasis of sorts ahead.
So I escaped from the Labyrinth, while the rest of my family took the Crevice to the top.
Because sometimes, your family needs to be strong for you.
And you have to go your own way.
Because when you get to the top, you will eventually meet up with the people you love the most.
I was going to end this post with some clever, sweet and funny ending. But just as I started to write it, smack dab in the middle of my the sentence, my oncologist called with good news: The semi-annual PET scan I had yesterday was clear. No cancer…again.
So, on behalf of my family — a bunch of Jersey people — I will instead let Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band say it for me:
Jen, what a lovely post. Thank you for sharing it – and the song. You were right…huge lump in the throat.
You’re so right Jen, we all meet up at the top and our journeys are different. I love how you always get the message . You took joy in letting your family be strong for you and brought joy to your Aunt by being strong and visiting her. Strength comes in many forms. You are special and strong – I loved reading this post, it will linger with me.
Lovely post, lovely song, Mohonk is a lovely place and I will keep your Aunt in lovely thoughts.
She is like a mom to me. my heart is sad for the whole family. I cry every time I think of her . She is a beautiful and courageous women. I just can’t imagine what my closest friend of 33 years ( her daughter) is going through. I love that family like they are my own. Jen I am sure they are truly grateful for your support wisdom and laughter.
Donna, I know you are a big help to my cousin at this horrible time. I will see her tomorrow, though we’ve been talking on the phone every few days. Cancer sucks.
What a lovely post Jen. I love Mohonk, though not the scary climbs. How beautiful – literally and metaphorically to know your loved ones have got your back. xo Rachel
Life is so full of ups and downs. It’s hard to keep up sometimes. I am so sorry to hear about your aunt. It’s a blessing that she has such a loving, dedicated family. That’s such great news about your test result! It must be hard to experience such sadness and relief simultaneously.
Love this song…it was actually the song my husband and I danced to at our wedding. It’s not really the best dance song but the words can’t be beat. Of course we’re from Jersey.
Jen – Wonderful post. and so sorry about your aunt. glad to hear about your GREAT news.
So sad about your aunt, Jen. She’s lucky to have you and your family. And, like Kris, the Mohonk Mountain House is one of my favorite places and, no, you wouldn’t find me on the Labyrinth or among any of those bouldery paths. Great shot from the top.
Such a moving post, Jen. And…coincidentally–Mohonk Mountain House is one of my favorite places and If I Should Fall Behind is one of my favorite songs. So glad for the news on your scan and so sorry about your aunt.
Awesome news. And as a Jersey girl who never really “got” Springsteen until recently, wonderful song.
Listening in Warsaw, cheering you on.
I was out at the mall this morning, and driving home I started to think of a dear friend of mine who lost her battle with cancer 5 years ago, and how much I miss her. I thought about all the things she never got to see: her son’s wedding, her baby granddaughter who was named for her. I thought about all the things her children will do in this life without her and how much so very many people miss her.
Then I came home and read this post, and listened to Bruce, and I’m crying now. I’m so sorry about your aunt, and so glad you have had good news. Life is all about the bitter and the sweet, always. Thank you for sharing this.
What a lovely post, Jen (and a great song, too). Congratulations on your clean bill of health, and may it be that way for a long, long time.
Lump. Throat. Tears. Thank you, Jen.
I’m so sorry to hear about your aunt.
I lost my father nine years ago to colon cancer, and you’re right. You need that support from your family. I just want to also take this opportunity to thank you for all your insight and, for even in your darkest days, helping me to see things in a more positive way as far as parenting goes. You have such a gift, and I’m so glad you are still around to share it. 