Gift of gratitude

June 1, 2013
By: Brandy Liên Worrall-Soriano

It has been said that this is a club you don’t ask to be in, but that once you are in, your life will change in ways you cannot imagine. In this club we know how vital it is to count our blessings, and we know how important it is to grieve our losses. Our hearts are big. We hurt and we heal with each other. We find the miracle in life everyday, and we ask why our loved ones are taken away.

We know what it’s like to lose hair, body parts, dignity, and sometimes the will to live. We hope that our loved ones help us to make it over to the other side, and we hope that there are people out there to support our loved ones as well. We know what it’s like to need that support like nothing else.

We are old before our time, and we feel the weight of mortality pressing on us from the moment we are diagnosed. If we’re lucky, we have days when that weight is lifted, and we are able to bask in the now. Because of this, we often feel alone: no one our age understands what it is like to be this young and so close to the end. But that is why we come together when we can, either in silence, laughter, or tears, and we hold each other tightly because we don’t know how many more of these moments we will have.

Perhaps all of this is why I feel that going through cancer at a young age is much like going off to war: because you are just starting out being a grown-up, and you are placed so close to death, and you do see your friends die and wonder if you’ll be next, and then you feel the survivor’s guilt. You are brought to your knees, and you can’t imagine how you will rise to your feet again, but when you do, you feel like no one will ever understand the hell you just went through. When you find someone who understands, you never want to let them go.

To all my compadres, the war is won every time your heart is full and you feel that sunshine, even if all anyone else sees are clouds. I know you understand.