One year ago, on November 23, 2019, you stole someone who was most dear to me. You took her without giving a second thought to the woman she was, plucking her from the earth as if she had been a weed in your macabre garden. Well, there are some things you need to know about that woman, things I’m sure you never even considered as you selected her for your victim.
Her name was Dyan and she cared deeply for the cause of Great White sharks. Did you know she donated money to help save them from the carnage they face in their ocean home? No, I suspect not.
I’m sure it didn’t matter to you that she was 68, a Gemini, and that she loved candles and peonies. To you a victim’s age means nothing. As for their Zodiac sign and favorite flower…pish posh. All you cared about were her cells; the cells that comprised her muscles, bones, tendons, and flesh. Well, sit yourself down, cancer ‘ole boy, and pay attention because I have a few things to tell you about the person you killed.
Dyan was a kind woman who brought joy into the lives of everyone she touched. She was always a lady and behaved with class and grace. She was thoughtful, oftentimes putting the needs of others above her own desires. Even as the tip of the chemo needle punctured her skin, she made sure to find out if the nurse was having a good day.
She was beautiful. Oh, yes, stunning, with skin that rivaled Aphrodite’s in its creaminess and luster. And her brown eyes sparkled, revealing the depth of the love they held. I swear Mother Nature used stardust to fashion them. Her hands…oh my, her hands–tender and gentle.
Dyan loved to laugh, did you know that? Tell me, could you hear the cadence of her laughter as you ate away at her ovaries?
Dyan was brave. Her bravery never faltered, not when the chemicals designed to kill you were pumped into her veins; not when they cut her open to scrape you from her abdomen; not when they told her you were winning. Her pink lips refused to cry uncle.
I don’t hate you, cancer, because Dyan didn’t hated you. She accepted you as an uninvited guest on her journey through life, and each day as I watched her do battle with you I learned the true meaning of courage, but if you think I’m going to thank you, think again.
That’s it, I’m finished, except to write that you lost. True, you claimed Dyan’s physical strength, but that was your folly, thinking that you had won. You may have taken her body, but you failed to break her spirit.
Oh, and one last thing, the woman you killed–she was my sister. Screw you, cancer.
To the reader:
I thank you for indulging me this place and time to write a letter to ovarian cancer, the cancer that took my sister. Grazie.
Over the past year I have written a series of poems in the hopes they would help stitch together my torn soul. I’ve published the collection and it’s available on Amazon. Yes, this is a shameful plug for my small book but the best news is that all proceeds will be donated to Ovations for the Cure, a cancer awareness organization that helps women struggling with ovarian cancer. Please consider purchasing my book or at least making a donation directly to Ovations in Dyan’s name. Your kindness won’t go unappreciated by the Universe, and me. Blessed be :}
Mi manchi, mio immortale.