We lost my brother years ago to Leukemia. He was an adult having recently reached 60, but he was family. He was a son, brother, husband, father and grandfather. He was hardworking and just as strong in the love he showed his family. We knew he had not been feeling well, but no one had any idea it was anything other than the bronchial infection the doctor told him. Until it wasn’t. Until it was too late. I was at work when my son came to let me know my brother was gone. All strength left my legs as I nearly screamed at my son “not my brother”. Some looked at me oddly as I seemingly reacted more strongly to my brother’s death than I did to my husband’s a couple of years prior. But this, was my brother. The one I grew up with. The one who we created many imaginative adventures. The one I fought and argued with. the one who rescued me from the giant snake on my back porch. The one who I nicknamed Rambo because of that incident. We were of the same blood. We had a similar sense of humor those his could be quicker and more biting. The one who was always there to help with a need. The one who loved his family deeply and would be seen often walking with a grandchild on his shoulders. He taught the oldest proper ways to handle a gun and how to hunt. Now, he had been taken from us.
Over time, we have lost may family members to different forms of cancer. Aunts, uncles, cousins, gone because of this nightmare disease that shows no discrimination. I lost friends to cancer. I watched some as they fought hard, the battle taking so much from them. It even appeared with some they were winning, but in the end, cancer took them.
I sit here, writing this as a survivor. One of the people who can look back and see how far we have come, and see those who are no longer with us. Maybe, we wonder, why we survived and they did not. We miss them desperately. We wish they could be here with us, being the people they were. Bringing the sunshine and annoyances. Bringing the laughter and the frustrations.
Adults, missing adults. Family missing family.
How much more difficult is it for the families whose children are fighting? As adults, we know how we handled things. We know those who were with us, helping us. The families of child cancer warriors need so much more than we as adults need. They need to know that there are those there for them, supporting them, assisting them. They need to know, that they are not alone as they struggle. Whether they need money, supplies, for their other children to know they are seen and not forgotten.
I and many I know, support a charity called the Love Like Lauren Foundation. That, is their purpose and goal, to be there for the children fighting cancer and their families. While they offer much, the main ingredient offered and given freely, is love.
Words from The Dirt Road 