Before I begin, I will openly admit that there are many people out there that have been through much worse than I have, and to all of those, I admire their strengths, as they are true heroes. My family cancer story starts when I was about three or four years old, I forget the exact time, since I was pretty young. My brother, sisters, and I took a trip to a hotel(I think we went to the beach, but I only remember the night, not the next day). I remember having so much fun on that trip, and after a long day of play, we settled down in the hotel room. Then I saw my aunt remove her hair. Now at the time, I was very young, and seeing someone remove their hair shocked me! It caused me to ask so many questions, and also caused me to try and take out my own hair a few times! Needless to say, and thankfully, I failed in removing my own hair. After interrogating her for some time, I was not given a definite answer, until one day a few months later, my grandmother told me that my aunt was in the hospital. Once again, you have to remember I was quite young, and had little idea of what was going on. I was told that she had cancer, and that she didn’t have long to live. I believed that all that meant was that she was sick, and she needed sleep and she’d get better. I was wrong. I was able to talk to her on the phone that day, and heard how sick she sounded. I told her that I loved her and that I wished that she’d get better. Once again, I was wrong. She died maybe a month later.

It took me years to understand what had happened. It wasn’t until I was about nine years old that I truly understand her death. It wasn’t until my mother, whom had been missing from the family my entire life, had come back to greet us. She had been suffering from drug addiction for many years, and had gone from one rehab to another. She never really wanted to come back to the family, because she felt ashamed that she couldn’t control her addiction. I didn’t care, I greeted her with open arms-we all did. This time to rehab had been different, as well. She was getting better, she found a man that truly loved her, she had a job, and the family was together again(well, aside from my father, which I won’t get into right now). All was well with the Universe. But as we all know, the Universe can be cruel. A few months after things started going well for her, she was diagnosed with cancer(leukemia if I can remember correctly), which was brought on by the drug use. Thinking back, it doesn’t seem fair, there are people out there that use drugs recreationally, and they may live to old age, but those that try to get help suffer, but I digress.