Although we’ve entered the boo-tastic month of October, we shouldn’t completely put September on the back burner. For most of us, September was just the second month in the fall semester. For others, September is the month of awareness sparking conversations about childhood cancer, suicide, and childhood obesity.
Childhood cancer is the leading cause of death by disease in children under the age of 15 in the U.S. In comparison, 1 person commits suicide every 16.2 minutes, and each suicide immediately affects at least 6 other people. 70% of obese children already have at least one risk factor for heart disease. Although these awareness’s are important, childhood cancer has a strong place in my heart.
Cancer has a way of consuming the innocent and taking away our loved ones. At the age of nine, I saw this first hand. Growing up, I saw, played, and loved my friends. I didn’t realize how short life really was at that age. We were untouchable until we weren’t.
In 4th grade, one of my best friends was hospitalized. Coming back to school from summer break, and not being embraced with a hug from him was strange. Our teacher sat us down and told us something happened to him. We didn’t’ quite understand the seriousness of cancer. We just thought he threw up a lot over the break and had to go to the hospital. We wrote cards for him and even kept a seat opened for his return. Over time, we got word that he was getting a lot better. He even made an appearance at our schools Halloween Festival. It was the happiest time of my life, however; I didn’t realize that happiness would be short-lived. A couple of weeks went by, and we hadn’t heard anything about his recovery. It was around the time we came back from winter break when we were given the news.
No one is prepared to receive that kind of news. I certainly wasn’t. I couldn’t wrap my head around how someone could go from doing so well to passing away. The silence in the room was soon occupied by wailing and sniffles from everyone. We all were feeling the pain of his loss. Not only had I lost my best friend, but I had lost my sense of hope. I entered a period where sadness was all I knew. I didn’t want to talk to anyone because I didn’t want it to be true. I felt like if I talked about how I felt, I was giving cancer power over me, but, cancer only has as much power as we give it.
We shouldn’t mourn life, but rather celebrate life. I did so by taking every day in strides. It took me a long time to realize that although my best friend wasn’t on this earth physically, he would always be in my heart. Here are some of the ways I wouldn’t and couldn’t let cancer taint my memory of him:
Balloons.
They can represent so many different events and moments, but they’re all made of the same thing. We had a celebration of life for him by releasing them into the sky. It sounds crazy, but as I watched the balloons fly away, my pain seemed to drift alongside them.
Remember. Don’t forget
Sometimes reminiscing can be healing. Whenever I spoke of him, I never spoke of his illness. I spoke of the countless times he made everyone around him laugh. I spoke of the times he hugged me so hard I couldn’t breathe. I spoke of the times he was a light in my darkest days. I spoke of the times he would help whoever needed it.
Journaling
It sounds minuscule, but writing out how I was feeling instead of bottling it inside really helped me. I didn’t realize how freeing it felt when I got things off my chest. It’s easy to smile and say, “I’m fine”, but once you’re alone with your own thoughts, the darkness can eat at you.
Support the cause
I was on a mission to bring awareness to cancer as much as I could. I wanted to fight for not only those who lost the battle but for those who are still fighting and the family members that have been affected. There are so many ways to get involved in the fight even if you haven’t lost someone to cancer, or you don’t know someone who’s currently battling. You can show your support through donations, participating in runs or walks, wearing the color corresponding to that cancer to bring awareness, or simply joining a club or group wherever you are. The power is in our voice and in our actions. Cancer may have won the battle, but it’s not going to win the war.
I realize now that although his death brought me pain, it gave me strength. Strength to go out and fight for him and so many others. Strength to write this article and not fall into a deep sadness. Strength to start a conversation about cancer. Strength to go out and support the cause even though I’m not athletic at all, and I run out of breath in the first 10 minutes. Whether I participate in runs or walks, I’m not doing it for me, but for him.
Sources:
https://www.unitypoint.org/blankchildrens/article.aspx?id=a08c96a2-c311-40d3-8eee-93d15f92b7ef
https://www.alexslemonade.org/childhood-cancer-facts-numbers
https://www.dosomething.org/us/facts/11-facts-about-suicide