One year ago I became my family’s rock and my grandma’s caregiver. I became the doctor and family translator and I became an oncology student through and through. Not through any med program, but through a life program. In life we do what needs to be done and we find the strength in us when our loved ones need it most. In those 4 months, I broke. I lost a part of myself that I later on discovered is called a secondary loss that most commonly affects the main caregiver. Someone that knows me knows that music can fix anything in my life and for those months music is something I couldn’t bear. I lived my life numb, on mute. About 10 months later I realized that I was finally able to say her name and playback those moments in my head without shedding a tear or feeling a pit in my stomach and my heart. I can smile at her picture hanging on the wall. I can think optimistically about my future. I can be sure that I didn’t lose my personality. I can think of those last moments that only her and I know about and I can stay strong throughout them.
Now to the point of this post. One year later my aunt’s battle with cancer is coming to an end too. Last year she became one of the stronger women in my eyes after I saw her in that same oncology office I took my grandma to. When I told her what was going on all she said was, “oh, don’t tell her that. She doesn't need to know any of that.” And she was right. There is no need to spread unnecessary pain to loved ones. She needed her strength to fight and keep that smile on fire that she’s still remembered for. I guess that's why music exists, to share love and shared emotions.
That day while sitting in his office I got the hardest question of my life that still makes me tear up today. My grandma looked over at me with disbelief and the biggest pain I’ve seen in my life. It was like seeing the most vulnerable, sweet, and big hearted child look at you and all you can hear is “¿tengo cancer?” [I have cancer?] Her words live in my head. They still don’t leave me alone. I never shared this with anyone in my family. Nor the fact that I was faced with the decision of putting her in hospice care or starting chemo to try a battle - basically a life and death choice. One I was expected to take in that office with her immediately after telling her that yes, she had cancer, and we were going to “take it out of [her]”, like she asked me to.
This all happened in March and April of 2022 and I don’t know why and I don’t know how but come March and April 2023 and that same aunt is now in hospice care. Stomach cancer. One she’s been beating for a long time now. I’m writing this to prove to myself and to others that this magic phrase repeated so often is not a lie. Time does heal. It heals the deepest of wounds. It takes a lot of self will to live and get better but it also takes lots and lots of time. This time around the situation isn’t as close to me as last. Last year I lost a mother. This year I see my dad in so much pain for his brother and I see my mom reliving parts of her mother’s cancer journey. It’s all too similar. I haven’t been able to bring myself to see her in that condition but I am here writing this down. I’m here saying that “mañana será bonito”. I was listening to the song, if you know it, and when I heard the following line I knew she understood one thing. To allow the hours and days to live in their present is to accept healing.
“Porque en la vida no podemos retroceder. Y recuperar el tiempo perdido. Pero sí podemos volver a empezar. Porque mañana será bonito”
Karol G is a woman with a huge heart and she knew this would be healing to more than just romantic heartbreak. They say that heartbreak can feel similar to the pain of grief so it makes sense that the ways in which we heal through both are very similar. You feel empty and you feel hopeless; sometimes you don’t know what to feel or if to feel at all.
I’m grateful for music and I’m grateful for the space to share this with you. I hope you allow time to live through you and accept the change that's coming.
I choose to tell myself that maybe this is all happening again at the same time in a different year because somehow my grandma is here holding her hand through the pain and the unknown journey. Just how my aunt kept me strong for short moments, my grandma is now helping her keep strong and in the light. And for us still here missing them and holding on for them, we can find peace in the fact that mañana será bonito [tomorrow will be beautiful] <3
Nadie te puede destruir. For me in these last months that entity is cancer but whoever and whatever it is for you, it can’t and it won’t destroy you forever. I promise you that.
xo
Itzel <3