I could feel her hesitation the moment I spoke. To her, I wasn’t truly family, and the one person who should have stood by her had turned away—without so much as a glance back.
When I was asked, six months into my almost-sister-in-law’s battle with cancer, to be her primary driver, I accepted it reluctantly. Like many, I was at a loss for words and actions when faced with someone battling cancer. The thought of an emergency made me anxious, even though I couldn’t quite pin down what I feared.
In the eyes of his family, I was merely his girlfriend—significantly younger and living the unpredictable life of a “writer” (a term that drew puzzled looks whenever I tried to explain). I selfishly wondered why I had to be the one to step up. Yet, I realized there was no one else free enough to spare three hours in the middle of the day for her oncology appointments. Her brother, the man I loved deeply, needed me. She needed me. So, off I went.
At first, our conversations were awkward. As a lifelong introvert, small talk isn’t my forte, and asking a stage IV cancer patient, “How are you?” felt trivial. What could she possibly say? “Other than the pain and exhaustion, I’m fantastic!” Definitely not the kind of empty questions I wanted to ask.
When in doubt, I resort to what I do best: I listened. Those who are uncomfortable with silence often feel the need to fill it.
Once a week, I’d pick her up, and we’d drive thirty minutes to her appointments. Gradually, the silence transformed into meaningful conversations. To our surprise, we had more in common than we’d realized. We were both single mothers to two children, each spaced more than four years apart. While she had been navigating single parenthood for years, my experience was more recent and, thanks to her brother, seemingly behind me.
We shared stories about our quiet kids, the challenges of getting them to listen, and their obsession with video games over outdoor play. Coupons and budget-friendly tips became common topics. We commiserated about picky eaters and rolled our eyes at reckless drivers. We formed a bond.
Weeks passed before she brought up the heart-wrenching topic that loomed over us: her mother’s abandonment. When her mother walked out, leaving her to face cancer and life as a single mom without a car, I struggled to understand. I tried to justify her mother’s actions, believing she was in denial, overwhelmed by fear for her child’s life. But as time went on, those reasons faded against the stark reality of her selfishness. A mother had abandoned her daughter, leaving two siblings—and a girlfriend—to pick up the pieces.
I knew it wasn’t my place to mention her mother.
What started as a reluctant obligation evolved into something much deeper. I became the one who could communicate the subtle changes in her condition, relaying updates to her brother, who was gradually losing sleep as he took on more stress and responsibility.
When she expressed her gratitude for what felt like the millionth time, my response remained simple: “This is what family does.” He is my family, so she is too. After countless car rides, sharing hopes and fears, I realized she was family because of who she is. The thought of not helping her was unthinkable.
I understood she might not grasp my sentiment. If her own mother had turned away, why would this younger woman—who lacked a true connection—step in?
I kept my own experiences private: standing by my father’s bedside as he took his last breath, missing the chance to say goodbye to my grandparents who also succumbed to cancer. I understood the pain of a shrinking family and the importance of holding tight to those who matter most, believing they’d do the same for you.
I didn’t share that. Instead, when she cried, “Why did my mom walk away?” I reassured her that we would never turn our backs on her. I reminded her that she had family, and we were there for her. When I included myself in that statement, I meant it wholeheartedly.
This article was originally published on June 23, 2015.
If you’re interested in more insights and stories, check out our other blog posts, including this one on privacy policies and resources like IVF Babble for guidance on pregnancy and home insemination. For practical solutions, visit Make a Mom for an authority on at-home insemination kits.
In summary, the journey of supporting a loved one through a challenging time can forge unexpected bonds. It’s a reminder that family can be defined by love and commitment, transcending traditional boundaries.