#cancersucks

Whenever I think of cancer, I think of The Fault in Our Stars. 

(At least up until now in my life, I never thought 

something like that would affect me.)

This is real. 

This isn't some story about loving 

someone who has cancer of the other gender. 

This is about cancer and my own family member. 

I will never forget your cards every year for my birthday with handwriting in such swirly cursive I could barely read it. 

I will never forget your little homemade caramel candies you would wrap in wax paper and you offering us to take as many as we wanted. 

I will never forget when you won the "Biggest BYU Fan" award and how much you disliked the Utah Utes. 

I will never forget when you gave my family our very first jar of cookie butter from Trader Joe's. 

I will never forget cleaning up your front yard and you introducing us to your neighbor across the street who you absolutely adored.

I will never forget you standing in my kitchen for hours and refusing to sit down until all the dishes were washed from Thanksgiving dinner.

I will never forget when you did a fashion show of all the different hats/headbands you were going to wear as you started to lose your hair. 

I will never forget buying you chicken noodle soup from chick-fil-a when that's all you wanted to eat during chemotherapy. 

I will never forget driving to the hospital at 11pm to see 

you for one of last times since your cancer came back worse than ever. 

Seeing you so helpless with cancer rapidly taking over your body. Having you tell me you expect to live for at least another month, but having the doctor tell us you would be lucky to live for two more days.

You were laying there worried about how your house wasn't clean. How your pictures weren't labeled. How people aren't going to remember you because you never wrote much of your history down.

Me worried about how much you are suffering. Worrying about how badly I wanted to help you feel better about what a great life you've lived and how you've truly changed my life. About how your life shouldn't be over at 75. About how I wanted to stay in the hospital with you all day and night. But somehow being in that room comforted me.

Being in that room with you for your last few days was eye opening. Seeing how fast life can change in just a few days. Seeing you struggle to stay alive in that bed. Seeing all the people who truly loved you coming to support you.

The hardest part was seeing my dad sit by your bed and him not being able to do anything to help you. Watching your best friend sit by your bed the night you were supposed to be going to the symphony together. Having my grandpa (your brother) try to spend every last minute with you and say his last goodbye.

Thank you for the homemade caramels.

Thank for washing the dishes.

Thank you for the cookie butter.

Thank you for the many birthday cards.

Thank you for all the wonderful memories.

PS...Tell your mom hi for me when you go back to heaven. And please love it up there because life down here won't be the same without you.