That’s a beautiful word isn’t it? Especially when it’s someone you know.
My father is in remission.
He has Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. The last couple of years have been steeped in chemo and all its side effects. Here’s the thing about Lymphoma, it never really goes away, you’re never really cancer-free. You beat it back, and you beat it back some more. The very best thing you can hear about Lymphoma is the word remission. We’ve waited a long time to hear this, and I got the word yesterday.
The timing of my father’s remission is bittersweet though, because his little sister’s cancer is now beyond treatment. It’s far past surgery or chemo or radiation, and into the realm of morphine and time. Her name is Marie, after their mother. When my grandmother died I was very young, and in my mind my Aunt Marie became a living reminder for me, in name, in looks, in voice,. In hugs. If I had had a daughter instead of a son, she would have been Emma Marie.
So I am happy today, but I am also sad. I live my normal life everyday, for my son, for my husband, for me. But in the back of my mind, I’m waiting for one of those phone calls. It might come tomorrow, or this week, or maybe next, but it come soon.
Peace be with you, my dear Aunt Marie.
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