One-Semester Memoir
One of the final assignments for our English 100 class is a One-Semester Memoir. I want to write about something I’ve experienced personally. I believe that some of my best writing comes from things that are close to my heart. So I chose to write about my families struggles with cancer. My mother was just recently diagnosed with stage two breast cancer. This marks the fourth cancer victim in our small immediate family. Cancer has a major impact on our society and has waged a war against my relatives.
It all started fifteen years ago with my Pop pop. His real name was James Patrick Ferry and he was seventy five years old at the time. My Pop pop was a large jolly fella. Growing up, they gave him the nickname of “Wobbles", this moniker stuck with him throughout his life. His crystal blue eyes shimmered with specks of kindness and love. Colon cancer was to blame for his death. This left a huge hole in all of our lives.
Moving on to its next victim, the cancer affected my aunt. She could never have any children of her own, so she treated her nieces and nephews as if they belonged to her. Patricia is my mother’s sister and the spitting image of my Pop pop. The cancer went after her uterus and she had to have a hysterectomy.
Next the cancer struck our matriarch. My Mom Mom is always impeccably dressed. Not a hair out of place on that woman. In her green eyes you can see pain and sadness. Losing my Pop pop really took a toll on her heart. She was the first to get breast cancer at age 81. Then just recently she battled esophageal cancer at the age of 89. She was triumphant in both battles and will live, God willing, to see her 90th birthday,
The latest victim is of course my mother. Her name is Veronica like her mother and grandmother before her. She is a single mother who worked full time to raise two young daughters into adulthood. My mother is a hard working woman with hands that can show you her dedication. She just recently lost thirty pounds and with that was the discovery of a lump in her breast. This makes her the second victim of breast cancer in our small immediate family.
It is kind of ironic that the form of cancer she has is called HER2- positive breast cancer. This type of cancer promotes the growth of cancer cells. It will have to be destroyed before it can be removed. So my mom will have to undergo chemo and radiation treatments. When she sat on my couch talking about shaving her head, I felt like I was in the twilight zone.
As I sat up one night thinking about cancer and how it has waged its war on my family, I became angry and decided to write a letter to this disease. I want to share that letter in this Memoir…
Dear Mr. Cancer,
You have walked through my family’s door too many times to count. Dragging your infectious cells through our living rooms. You stroll in our homes without even an extended invitation. If you had knocked, the door wouldn’t have been opened for you. Cancer is not welcome here. Such a chameleon you are, well at least you think, putzing around our lives with your different forms. Colon, uterine, esophageal, breast, you are so arrogant that you can’t even limit yourself to just one doorstep. We have found ourselves locked in your choke hold once again. Go Away! Leave us alone! Once again we will tackle you, as if we were the best NFL defense team. Our eyes meet, locked, waiting for the whistle. When it blows, Game on! We go head to head waiting to see who will crumble first. These doors that you callously open belong to some of the toughest women around. We have battled many things in this rough life. We will fight you once again. You are not welcome here. First you attacked my Pop pop. He was the most loving man that we knew. You may have won that battle by technical difficulty, but we survived. You continued your war against my family when you attacked my Mom mom. First with her breast followed with a sucker punch to her esophagus. Even at age 89 she kicked your ass. Again, you decided to barge through the wrong door, you disgusting leech! I guess you couldn’t stand the feeling of defeat. So you decided to go for our strongest link. Now that you have engulfed my mother’s life, I will personally destroy you. You never even knocked. Who let you in? You are not welcome here. Since you have decided to take on my family, I have decided to help kick your ass! Whatever it takes. For however long it takes. I will be here, watching, waiting, hoping that every piece of you is destroyed. Turn around, walk back out that door. We do not want you in our homes.
Yours Truly,
Melissa
I know this memoir is supposed to be about me. Well, I am my family. I chose to chronicle how cancer has affected each member, which in turn has affected me. I wanted to share the above letter because it shows my strong feelings on the subject. I would like to end this with a song my family has sang for years every time we are gathered for a special occasion. It usually takes place at a large table with everyone holding hands.
Oh we don’t have a barrel of money, but everything’s jolly and funny, so we’re strolling along, singing our song, side by side. In all kinds of weather, a little rain must fall, but as long as we’re together, it doesn’t matter at all. Oh we don’t have a barrel of money and everything’s jolly and funny. So we’re strolling along singing our song side by side.