Usually when I write my blogs they are thought out, researched and topics that can usually help others. Well tonight I’m being selfish and writing solely from the heart.

When I migrated with my family to Canada I was young, very young in fact I was still drinking a bottle. One of the first family’s we came into contact with was the Worden family. It was friendship at first sight you could say for my mom and Debbie and they soon became best friends. This worked out to my benefit because they had a daughter who was my age and from the very first meeting we became inseparable. We would spend weekends at each others houses, weeks during the summer holidays we went through all of life’s major changes together. My family became hers and hers mine. Her parents were even Godparents to my little sister.

As life would have it high school brought us to different schools and different groups completely and our friendship became distant. Although she always holds a special place in my heart we had come to a fork in our friendship and separate paths were taken.

Nevertheless, about 8 years ago I remember receiving the news that Debbie ( moms best friend) had been diagnosed with cancer. I remember that morning perfectly, I was mixing pancakes when my mom told me and I broke down spilling batter everywhere. It hurt because I felt like it was my own mom being diagnosed.

Mom told me they were optimistic and yet probably about a year later she lost her battle with cancer while I was four months pregnant with my first daughter.

Fast forward six years and now I am once again faced with the sad news that Debbie’s husband Ernie has lost his battle with cancer.

My heart is so heavy that it physically hurts. I cant even begin to fathom that these two people who raised my like their own daughter are gone. I have memories of Ernie grilling up steaks and hot dogs for us in the summers. Memories of Debbie making home made play dough for us and always allowing my creativity to flow freely through paints and crayons. Memories of sleepovers trying to whisper and be quiet knowing full well that if we got caught we’d be in trouble for watching movies all night.

I came from a black family and they are white and yet there was never any thought of race or discrimination. If we did something bad while at either house we got in trouble. She learned to love soca and could sing Mac Fingall’s Big Belly Man word for word.

I thought I would be ok when I got the call that I had to go say goodbye to Ernie last Thursday but it was as if once I walked into the room a flood of memories hit me. I’m glad though that I got to say goodbye while he could still comprehend who I was. I’m glad that I got to see him smile, got to hear him crack one last joke. I’m especially glad that I got to give him one last hug, something that I never got to do with Debbie.

Now my own selfish feelings of sadness will have to be replaced because I know that as grief stricken I may feel, my dear friend will feel it much worse because now she has lost both parents.

I’m sad, but most of all I’m angry. If cancer was a person I would like nothing more than to kick its ass. I‘m sure it would be the girl who thinks she‘s cool but really isn’t- you know that bitch in high school that we all hated. I’m tired of losing people I love to this stupid disease. I’m tired of it rearing it’s ugly head and having no remorse for the families it rips apart, the tears it causes and the lives it cuts short.

So as I wipe away tears of sadness the only thing I ask you to do if you’ve taken the time to read this is to please donate to the cancer society and to say a prayer for those who are grieving.

xoxo

Elle

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