“Come here, I have to tell you something.” my mom began. I already knew. As I laid beside her, snuggled in my blankets, I noticed her eyes become glassy and overflow with tears. “No matter what happens, just know I love you.” My mom started to explain what she had. “Triple-negative breast cancer.” A cool feeling filled my chest, my heart sank straight to my stomach and almost instantaneously, tears one after another, streamed down my face. Most fourth graders worry about the one worksheet they have for homework or the newest toy coming out, but I had to finally hear the words I had been dreading.
Growing up in a household of three older sisters and loving parents was the norm for me. Because I was the youngest of four, I was the last to find out anything. No one wanted to tell “la nena” (the baby) anything unless it was good news. So for months, eight-year-old me would be watching Spongebob in the living room while overhearing dialogue like “did you get the results back?” or “what did the doctor say?” I might have been naive because of my age, but I could most definitely put two and two together. I remember nights I couldn’t fall asleep and just ponder the idea of not having her by my side.
Even though this was the only hardship I witnessed my mom go through, her diagnosis sure wasn’t the only impactful event in her life. She not only is the strongest person I know but is my inspiration. Sometimes after school, I’d be brought to Virtua to visit my mom during her radiation. This was twice a week for hours at a time. Seeing the person you love become weaker physically, but yet stronger mentally is something indescribable, but in the long run, it made me more grateful for everything in my life and most importantly, more grateful for her.
It’s so easy nowadays to look over what truly matters in life. There seems to be distractions all around us and we lose sight of the significant things, the bigger picture.
