I couldn't have said it better...

My cousin Danielle wrote this on her blog and I thought it was really nice. Especially the part about me. ;) No really, I didn't quite know how to say it or write it, but I needed to put it here. My mom actually told me before I read it. She didn't tell me when she found out, there she is trying to protect my feelings again. So here it is.

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My auntie has cancer.

When I was little, I had a very small family. Mom was an only child and not close to extended family, so there was just her and her messed-up mother, my scary Endora-from-Bewitched-lookin' grandmother. On Dad's side, there was Grandma and Grandpa, Auntie Di Di and Auntie Carole, Uncle Danny, and eventually, my one and only first cousin, Dee Dee. Auntie Di Di and Uncle Danny were my godparents. Auntie Carole was what I thought of as my glamorous aunt.

A lot of people back then thought she was a bitch, but she's actually a cool combination of very wry and very shy. When I was a little girl, she had long, long straight hair, the kind everyone in the mid-70s wanted to have. It was dark, it was thick, it was glossy, and on dress-up occasions, it was pulled into an intricate bun. Most of the time, however, it flowed free, combining with her olive skin and her eyeshadowed dark eyes to create a sexy aura of mystery. I was five and I knew it was sexy.

She smoked More cigarettes, the long, dark brown ones. She left lipstick on the filters. Her fingernails were long, too, and they were kept buffed and brightly polished at all times. She'd sometimes let me press my squishy little girl fingers into their tips, making half-moon impressions on my skin.

She was a travel agent and went to places that sounded very exotic to me, like Bermuda. She lived in New York City for a while, and for a time in Florida, and I have no idea what she did in either of those places, but I imagined those things to be very exciting. She was -- and is -- a sharp-minded woman, and I can't imagine any experience went to waste.

She read women's magazines and told me before I even had hair on my legs that if I used conditioner when I shaved them, I would have soft skin. She let me play around in her face creams, her makeup, and her weird little squishy things that helped to turn her mane into a chignon. Sometimes, we'd watch Love Boat and Fantasy Island together, and I had no problem imagining that she'd show up on one of them someday.

When she was 39, she discovered she was pregnant. I remember touching her belly and trying to picture a baby inside, and I couldn't quite manage it. One day, there came the baby. That's the baby who got married last year. Back in 1979, it wasn't quite hip to decide to have a baby as a single mom, and at no time is it an easy thing for the daughter of an Eastern Orthodox priest to do. But that baby she had? If my son becomes half the person my cousin is, I'll be the proudest mother alive. She was absolutely devoted to her child, and sadly, I think that was my first experience with that kind of thing. I think it was formative.

Dee Dee was raised with many parents -- Auntie Carole, of course; Grandma and Grandpa, when they were still alive; and my Auntie Di Di, who has lived with her since she was born. My father and uncle walked her down the aisle when she got married. "Dee's Got Two Mommies" is the family joke, but the truth is, Auntie Carole, tho protective like a mother lion, let everyone have a spot in Dee's upbringing.

Auntie Carole (that's CAROLE-WITH-AN-E!) is having surgery next week, a resection, to remove some colon cancer and to explore further. I don't have many details yet, as those come from my father, and my father wasn't even supposed to share the news yet. I do know that this is serious, but I haven't any idea how serious. All I know is that I'm so sad. I'm sad that she has to worry, I'm sad that my father has to worry, I'm sad that my Auntie Di Di and Uncle Danny have to worry, I'm sad that Auntie Carole is going to experience a lot of pain, and I'm sad that my cousin, who doesn't know any of this yet, will have to wonder about her mother's mortality. I'm not ready to think about Auntie Carole as a mortal just yet, myself.

The trip to Las Vegas we had scheduled for later this month turns out to be quite timely, indeed. Until I know more, and until I can be there, I pray. If it's your practice, will you please pray, as well? We need strength.
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My mom is certainly not nearly as worried as I would be if I was faced with the same situation. She really is a strong woman.