Survivors

Growing up in a big Irish family as an only child fulfilled all my sibling desires. I was the direct middle of 18 cousins…to be honest I have lost count, I’m not quite sure how many there are now. Our parents made the family dynamic very special to all of us children, making sure we all got together for Christmas and July 4th. All the women in our family are pretty tough cookies. My grandmother, my aunts, my mother and all my cousins are role models of strength, determination and vibrancy. So it was quite a shock when we found out that two of my aunts had been diagnosed with breast cancer. As worried as I was for my aunts, I was just as worried for my cousins. I couldn’t imagine the fear and pain they were going through seeing their mother in physical and emotional pain. I also began to think about the health of my own cousins. Today both of my aunts are proudly survivors, praise God. My cousin Mary, who more recently went through this with my Aunt Beverly was kind enough to share the experience with all of us. her story is heartfelt, fresh, honest, and a beautiful message about making your own health a priority in order to support your entire family. Love you Mary, Aunt Beverly, Hedy and Aunt Colleen. xo

_____________________________

I grew up learning about breast cancer in the early 90’s and was around for the creation of the pink ribbon.
But I was well into my 20’s when I was personally effected by it. Effected may be the “wrong” word here, but I later realized, it is the correct word.

Cancer touches not only those who physically have it, but their entire circle; family, friends, people who may only just relate due the common factor in the mix of life. An Aunt of mine was diagnosed and went through much effort to become well, inspiring her family with her strength.

She is a surviver.

But even then, I still hadn’t truly felt the realness of being, effected. Easter of 2015. That’s my marker for what was revealed two days later.

I will always remember being sweaty and sitting in the parking lot at the local YMCA, listening to my father explain that my mother had breast cancer.
I can still feel the sensation I received, that guttural trust of my heart slamming downward.

That moment, that instance; The idea of my mother suffering, being changed by something that is so incomprehensible, her mortality becoming looming almost, will never change for me. It fades at times and isn’t in the forefront as often but, it’s always there.
I find it funny how as we age or feelings, relationships, our focus with our parents shifts from the protected to the protector.

I wanted to shield my mother from the experience. Save her from the feelings that I am sure were coursing through her internal dialogue. I wanted to be stronger. I wanted to be healthy so that I could weather the storm.

So that’s what I did for her. I pushed myself in a way that it became instinctual and cathartic, both for me and for her. I was able to shield her by keeping us the same. I was able to weather the storm because I was physically stronger, getting tired less, becoming more motivated to help keep the temperature of the moment level so that she could just focus on positive energies. Not the worry. Not the scared feelings. That was for me to absorb as much as I could and then dispose of it in my workouts. I turned fear, worry, and stress into fuel and motivation.

In a strange way my mothers breast cancer provided me with things I didn’t realize how badly I needed. An outlet for the stress I had been internalizing from my own life, the fact that I am at my most fit of my adult life, and the inner strength that comes with self confidence.

We are blessed to have a positive outcome from her surgery and treatment. We weathered the storm. We have become closer.

My mothers strength, ability to not break when life handed her a big rotten lemon, her courage to over come this, staying mentally strong, not allowing her true self to waver, those the blessings I take with me from all of this.

She is blessed.
I am blessed.  We are all blessed to have her here with us; being the woman she wants to be, hours spent in the garden, time with my children, and enjoying the retirement that she and my father deserve.

Breast cancer has, effected me. But it showed me my true self and shone a light on the strength and unbelievable courage my mother possesses. She will always be an inspiration to me. Her soul is on a level I will now push myself toward, in hopes to be as real and true as she is.

With peace and love,
M. W. Hickmott