Well, nothing related to Audrey that is. I'm in an information vacuum from my sister. I suspect either nothing is going on, or perhaps she's assy because I haven't gone out of my way to be there (despite the obviousness of the horrible snowstorms we've had, and I've been sick twice with sinus infections). Either way, I'm okay with the silence.
Though, I do have news regarding an aunt of mine (aunt by marriage, who is one year older than I am). Some folks say I'm strong or I've got fortitude. I honestly don't know how this woman is able to get out of bed in the a.m.
When we were in high school, I remember (vaguely) she had a brain tumor removed. I don't recall if it were cancerous or what. But I remember that being a huge drama (rightfully so). Cancer or no, if you get your skull cracked open and stuff is removed, and you're able to lead a functional life after, you should get a fucking free pass on any further health crisis, IMHO.
Several years ago, she was T-boned in a car accident which left her with an unpredictable, yet persistent brain injury, which at times will cause her body to seize up into spasms, and affect her speech. She's got a hell of a sense of humor to get thru this, as the times her speech is affected, she sounds alternately like she's Russian or Hispanic. I don't recall the nickname she's got for the Hispanic affectation; however, she refers to the Russian speech issue as "Natasha." Srsly, no words can convey how I just feel about this. Again... she should get a fucking free pass.
Recently in the midst of the never-ending drama with Audrey, my aunt was diagnosed with breast cancer. She went in for a lumpectomy, and was told initially it was a stage II; however, she was given a blow recently saying she's also gotten liver and bone cancer (which has spread to her spine). I knew instinctively before she got the news on Friday that this wasn't merely a stage II, but a stage IV, with mets. So she needs to get a port installed, they're starting chemo soon, and hope it will stall the spread of the other cancers long enough so she can go in for her mastectomy.
She's not an aunt by blood; and to be honest, in the near 30 years she's been married to my uncle, I've avoided investing too much of a relationship with her because of issues with my uncle. And also not to belabor the point, there were huge issues when she married my uncle, because GASP she had their first child out of wedlock! GASP! HARLOT! And there was MUCH LAMENTATION in the family. And much speculation my uncle threw away what could have been a lifetime career in the Coast Guard (he was on the precipice of joining--plus he had a reputation as a teenager as a troublemaker and had some scrapes with the law which he somehow got out of). And yet here they are, three decades later, for all intents and appearances still in love, three kids, and now three grand kids. Her life has been one of defeating and beating the odds.
I've said this elsewhere, but I'll say it again here: She is my Viking Warrior Aunt. If anyone can come out of this situation, it will be her. She's like a cat with nine lives.
I've also said this elsewhere, but I'll say this again here: Clearly, she is not related to me by blood. I do not come from fighters, from warrior stock. Not sure how many generations this particular characteristic runs, perhaps just three generations.
I think about how my ancestors were able to survive out of the primordial sludge of Creation, and survive pestilence and famine and wars and you name it, and emerge out of the Dark Ages right on thru the current writing, only for that fighting, survival instinct to just up and peter out three generations back.
So whatever fight I've got left in me, it's not related to this aunt, as that relationship has budded only recently via cell phone texts. Whatever fight I've got left in me, whatever if manifesting itself right now, runs much much deeper, is hardwired deep in my DNA, and harkens back to forebears I've never met in this life, forebears perhaps that go so far back well beyond where my paper trail for my family tree ends. So to my as yet nameless, faceless, fighter forebears I say, "Thank you." And to my friends reading this, I also say "Thank you," because sometimes I feel as if I ride on the shoulders of those warrior friends who have plodded ahead of me, and sometimes I feel as if I have my hand held (even in spirit). And sometimes? I feel perhaps my purpose in life is to hoist someone else up on my shoulders and lead the way.
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