Caregivers

The Devastated Loved One

Dear Cancer,

It’s hard to even want to talk to you right now. Throughout life, I’ve seen what you are capable of, the pain you cause. You destroy lives. We try to be positive. Community and family rally around those you take hold of, but you don’t care about that.

The Now

In 2019, I was diagnosed with breast cancer at age 33. I had surgery and treatment in Boston and then moved home to Hudson Valley, New York to live close to my family. I met the love of my life shortly thereafter. After about two and a half years together, in October 2023, he was diagnosed with a rare form of kidney cancer.

Hope

We have a tree called Hope. The anniversary of Matt’s diagnosis is a painful day for us; there was no happiness, so we do not celebrate it. Instead, we celebrate the anniversary of his completion of treatment.

Parent Mentoring: You Are Not Alone

There are moments in my life that I will never forget. Most of them represent important milestones like getting married, the birth of our sons, the sudden death of a good friend, and the passing of my dear parents. I can recall them all. However, there is another moment I will never forget: the day of my son’s cancer diagnosis.

Words Matter—but Supportive Silence Can Go a Long Way

Over my father’s two-month journey diagnosed with stage IV Esophageal cancer, he had a parade of visitors. Each person shared something different, many not wanting to share out loud what we all feared.

“He’s strong.”
“He’ll get through this.”
“We need to pray harder.”

It Must Be Me

As I lay there screaming into the ground, nothing came out, not even a faint puff of air. I had cried so many tears the day before from anger, frustration, and grief. I let my face just scrape up against the cold ground. It was the only way I could force myself to feel again: frigid ground attempting to wake me up. Waiting for Ashton Kutcher to tap me on the shoulder and exclaim, “YOU’VE BEEN PUNKED!”

The Loneliness of Caregiving

On the day before my partner Dil was diagnosed, we went water tubing. The day off was a stolen pleasure on a beautiful Monday morning in June and we had been together for about two and a half years. About midway through our float, I capsized, fell into the river, my bathing suit top fell off, and my knees were scraped against the bottom of the river.

The Power of Faith: Overcoming Feelings of Loneliness and Isolation

As I reflect on our experience with cancer, I’m reminded of how isolating that season of my life was. Enter the pandemic that forced us into physical isolation.

Dear Cancer, Do You Remember Me?

Dear Cancer,

I wish I could start with, “Hello old friend, and thank you for all the ways you’ve shaped my growth,” as I have written before, but today that feels like a lie. One thing I’ve lost the ability to do is lie to protect you. Today I am still grieving and angry. Today I can’t see past all you have taken from me.

Can you even remember me? You took my mother in ‘88 when I was just a kid, and yet I thanked you. I thought my debt had been paid. You taught me to love every day, not just on good days, and I thanked you.

Dear Cancer, You Taught Me Loss and Light

Dear Cancer,

For a long time, I thought you only came into other people’s homes. You certainly would never enter mine and wreak havoc. Until you did. When I was fifteen you filled my home and apparently my dad’s bloodstream as well. Leukemia. When we told people the news they would cry, and I never understood why. What’s wrong? This won’t take him down. Do you know my dad? He is as tough as nails!