Today I'm dressed in black again. I'm dressed in black for my aunt's funeral, a very young woman. In fact, doing the math... she was a teenager when she became my godmother. For those who follow the blog, you know that my grandfather passed away just over two weeks ago, and now it was his youngest daughter's turn. A "blow" for the whole family. I'm sad, tired, and angry. I've decided to take off my masks, which I also have, and show you how I feel, and perhaps what comes out of this article can serve as a tool for someone.
Begoña has left us after learning she had cancer 8 months ago. I won't go into details about her illness or the process, primarily out of respect for my uncle and my cousin. To them both, I can only say, "I'm here."
I will tell you that my aunt is probably the most positive and optimistic person I have ever known. She always has been, and during this process, she has given us all a lesson. The truth is that on numerous occasions, I talked about it with my mother and told her, "I'm amazed at how she's handling it..." It must be that cancer makes the patient draw an inexplicable strength from their soul. In fact, in my daily life with Maminat, it's common to hear testimonies from people who have suffered from cancer or have a family member or friend who suffers from it. The disease makes us more sensitive about the type of cosmetic we apply to our skin due to the toxic substances present in some formulas.
But... have you noticed the language surrounding cancer?
And it's something I was thinking about today on my way home, driving. We say they "fight against cancer," "the battle against cancer," "they are fighters," "they don't let themselves be defeated..." Beware! And I'm not saying this way of speaking or expressing ourselves is right or wrong, but I do believe we should be aware of these metaphors which, after all, have a warlike connotation.
I suspect they have an explanation if we consider the harsh process patients face: very aggressive treatments, drawing strength despite the weakness left by chemotherapy or radiotherapy sessions, and ultimately, they are a kind of warrior. However, allow me the liberty of telling you that we can review our language a little (and I'll be the first to do so!) because... if the patient dies, does that mean they haven't won the battle? Well, for me, that's not the case.
Champions: all who suffer from cancerAnd, in my humble opinion, they are all champions, whether or not cancer is considered a battle. A champion is one who decides not to seek treatment despite being diagnosed with the disease; a champion is one who undergoes each and every medical test; a champion is one who recovers and heals; and a champion is one who has passed away due to the illness. In this last group is my aunt, but she was a champion from minute one until the very end. And if you don't believe me, ask Uncle Carlos, who was with his wife at all times and never left her side.
Today is a sad day of loss, emotional exhaustion, and anger because I can't stop thinking about how unfair life is and how it does things that escape intellect and reason.
However, I told you earlier that my aunt has always been a positive, optimistic, and cheerful woman. That's why hundreds of people who loved her attended her funeral, placed wreaths of flowers everywhere, and she leaves us with a message that I always keep in my memory and that I want to retrieve today for my younger cousin, her daughter. I'm sure, Carlota, your mom would tell you, "Go conquer the world, you're worth it." And please, listen to her.
RIP, champion, Your eldest niece, Natalia