I talked to my sister Gena on my cell from work last week only to hear that she and our sister Lisa had been to the hospice center where our Aunt Brenda is living out the last of her days as a victim of brain cancer. My Aunt Brenda is one heck of a strong woman I tell you. If you have ever hear the song by Metallica about the man who is trapped within his own body, unable to see, speak and everything else because of a landmine� I think the song is titled �One�. It tells about what the land mine has taken from this guy and how he is indeed trapped within himself. It also goes on: �� hold my breath as I wish for death. Oh please, God- wake me!� I think of this song often as I think of my Aunt Brenda. A woman trapped by the cancer that is quickly taking over her brain and all of the functions that are performed by it. She can see, but she can not speak. She is limited to maybe 5 words. The same 5 words repeatedly. So all that go to see her are left to guess and wonder what it is she is trying to ask for or to convey to us. My cousin made her a cookie sheet with magnets bearing words on them. And a speech therapist has also given her a book with words, pictures and phrases in it to help her communicate. But she grows so frustrated by it all and often gives up trying to talk. She cannot write out what it is she wants because the tumor that is growing so fast and furiously on her brain has caused a stroke that has taken her right side from her. The side she used to write. It is one of the saddest things I have ever had to witness in my life. And for those of us who are watching her slowly fade away, it breaks our hearts.

Being a woman of many, many words- whether or not people want to listen, I cannot even fathom what it must be like to be dying. And know full well that your time here on Earth is severely limited and yet, you lack the ability to spend your last bit of time telling those you love that you do love them. To say all of the things you might not have ever taken the time to say and wish to do so now. Or even to have the ability to tell someone you�re in pain and would like treatment for that.

Another phrase that comes to my min is the old saying: She came in like a lion, and went out like a lamb. That fits my Aunt. Once so full of life� she always seemed to have taken life by storm. And now, she is being forced to go out like a lamb. But no matter what, my Aunt Bren will always be that lion. When I look at her, I refuse to see the woman that cancer has made her become. I don�t see the hair loss, the wheel chair, the body that is so quick to fail her in her moment of need. But instead, I see her as she was. So full of life, so beautiful, so happy. If she can live out her last moments still laughing and trying to make a go of everything without letting the cancer get the best of her� then I think we all owe her that much. To look past the illness and see her as she was. Because she still is that woman. She�s just trapped . But if you look hard enough- she�s still there. And before long, it gets easier and easier to look past the illness.

I took my mom down there with me. She is just as devastated if not more than the rest of us. But she noticed how cold my aunt was and when we let, it was that moment that she allowed herself to give way to the tears that she�d been holding back. She told me that she thought she had held her sister for the last time. I cried too. I hope it isn�t so� but we can�t ever know what God�s plan for her sister is.

But while we were down there, we did have a nice visit. Both her kids were there, my cousins, Chrissy and Joey. My sister Lisa, her partner Tania, My Mom and I all shared in a Chinese dinner we had delivered to spice up my Aunt�s palette for a change of pace. I even took my camera, praying that it wasn�t too taboo. But everyone seemed happy to oblige me. So hoorah for that.

It was a long trip. Two and a half hours down, the same back. All done in the same day. I wish I had had more time with my Aunt, but it just wasn�t possible. So now, I am home and trying to get my health back on track. I have doctor�s appointments up the wazoo this week. I also have an appointment with a personal trainer at a gym that Shawn and I are intending to join. And we also had another session of couple�s counseling today.

Things have been so chaotic. I lost the baby, I have been taking ill with kidney and urinary tract infections, back issues, depression and a relationship that after almost 12 years is now starting to unravel. I definitely have issues. And at this point, as I told Shawn and our shrink- I don�t know who I am anymore. I once was a dreamer with big dreams and a life all planned out. And now, I am a mere shell of the woman I used to be. Empty, hollow and lonely. I spend each day fighting for the happiness that I should own. I spend each day trying to remember why I have made the choices I have made and reminding myself just how far I have come.

But somehow, I wonder will it ever be enough? Will I ever be happy? It seems to me that I have turned into quite the �drama queen.� That no matter how far forward I move, I still see the view from the place I once stood- waaaaaaaaay in the back. I have so got to get over that.

And then I think of my Aunt and all of the people in life like her who have been dealt a bad hand and have to struggle just to literally live through their next day- and wonder what the hell I am being so selfish about. Wonder why the hell I am being so lazy in life. And wondering why in hell I am allowing myself to let life pass me by. I owe it to my Aunt and the people in life like her, to live each moment as if it were my last.

I owe it not only to them, but to myself� to live damn it.

Simply,

Sara