January 19, 2012 is a day I will never forget. Earlier that day I remembered that it was my Uncle Mike's birthday, a dear uncle who tragically died in a car crash in his mid 30s. I specifically remember thinking just how sad it was that he died so young and when my cousins were so young as teenagers.
Later that evening, my world was shattered when I received a call from my mom who told me that my sister, Tonya, received the devastating news that her cancer was terminal...as in no other treatments options. Her breast cancer battle started June 2010 at the age of 39 and was followed with months of chemo, radiation and now I'm hearing from my mom that there's nothing more that they can do. The doctor more or less said chemo would only shorten her life and she needed to go and be with her family.
I couldn't drive to her house quick enough and I ran to her and couldn't let go. I will never forget what she said through her tears, "I'm sorry, I tried so hard to fight." The days that followed = me an absolute wreck.
All that I could think of was everything she meant to me and everything I still needed her for.
I spent the next month driving back and forth as much as I possibly could with her living nearly an hour away. Tonya would text me often and I would ask about her pain and always her answer was that the pain was nearly unbearable. I can't tell you how excruciating it is to hear someone you love so much tell you how much pain they're in and there's nothing you can do to help.
On February 25, 2012 my beautiful sister lost her battle but was quite the fighter. She is the mother of three beautiful and smart girls that are 16, 13, and 11. The night before, my two youngest nieces spent the night with me and as we were cooking breakfast, I got the call that she was going and going fast. We flew as fast as we could while my sister fought for every breath in her last moments. She was surrounded by family holding hands, embracing each other as we cried and prayed over her. There is no doubt in my mind that she was holding on to see her girls and her family and hear from all of us that as much as it pained us, that we were going to be alright and it was okay to let go.
I've never had a harder day in my life than that day. While I feel like it was a blessing to be there with her and tell her that I love her, the image of her in those last moments is absolutely haunting me and one I cannot get out of my mind every time I close my eyes.
I spoke at Tonya's memorial service and was a ball of nerves. It took me about 5 minutes, or so it seemed, before I started my eulogy about her but I knew that no one would understand a word if I went into my ugly cry, and boy was I ever so close.
Here are the words that I shared that day:
I recently read an article about a professor
along with a group of researchers carried out a study that said that having a
sister helped to promote good mental health.
He said, "Sisters appear to encourage
more open communication and cohesion in families. However, brothers seem to
have the alternative effect. (Sorry, Bo, no offense) Emotional expression is
fundamental to good psychological health and having sisters promotes this in
families."
I truly believe that your sister is your
first best friend. Being that Tonya was 8 years older than me, in more ways
also made her my second mother. She experienced things ahead of me and her
experience and wisdom was often the topic of long phone conversations.
Growing up, I was her shadow. I was
completely her tag-along and was there even in those years where little sisters
were “uncool” and normally cramping a teenager’s style. She couldn’t even get
rid of me if she tried. I even tagged along in the summers to her work when she
was a nanny. I’ve lost count how many times she gave me rides to volleyball
games, work, and even dances when I was too embarrassed to have Mom and Dad
drive me. I completely idolized her. I remember crying and telling my mom that
I wanted “yellow” hair like Tonya when we were younger. I was always so envious
of her thick beautiful hair.
She was my “person” who didn’t hold back and told me the brutal honest truth like, “Andrea, what are you thinking wearing that white eye shadow” and “Sweetie, you really need to wax your lip.” Every person needs a “Tonya” to tell it to you straight.
If there ever were a pair of polar opposite sisters, it was Tonya and me. There were days that I wasn’t so sure she promoted good mental health but now looking back, those arguments and differences of opinion brought us closer. Tonya was fiery, spunky, and sassy but that seemed to be in my favor because most times I was not on the receiving end of it. She witnessed my worst and best and loved me anyway. She was the type that came to spend the night while my newborn son was hooked up to a machine for jaundice just so Justin and I could get more than an hour of sleep. She had many duties as a sister. She was also my mother, my cook, my chauffeur, my caregiver, my defense attorney (she saved my bottom from many a spankins), my personal press agent, my cheerleader and most often my shrink.
She was my “person” who didn’t hold back and told me the brutal honest truth like, “Andrea, what are you thinking wearing that white eye shadow” and “Sweetie, you really need to wax your lip.” Every person needs a “Tonya” to tell it to you straight.
If there ever were a pair of polar opposite sisters, it was Tonya and me. There were days that I wasn’t so sure she promoted good mental health but now looking back, those arguments and differences of opinion brought us closer. Tonya was fiery, spunky, and sassy but that seemed to be in my favor because most times I was not on the receiving end of it. She witnessed my worst and best and loved me anyway. She was the type that came to spend the night while my newborn son was hooked up to a machine for jaundice just so Justin and I could get more than an hour of sleep. She had many duties as a sister. She was also my mother, my cook, my chauffeur, my caregiver, my defense attorney (she saved my bottom from many a spankins), my personal press agent, my cheerleader and most often my shrink.
I remember when she had her girls and they
felt like they were my own children. My sister could make some beautiful babies
that was for sure.
When I became a mother, a closer bond began and I understood her more than ever. We both love being a mother more than anything but Tonya was the one person I could count on to talk to about it when it got to be too hard to handle. She wouldn’t sugarcoat anything and would validate me that it was ok to feel that way. With the birth of every child we’ve been in the waiting room for each other. The best way she showed me her love was by loving my children.
When I became a mother, a closer bond began and I understood her more than ever. We both love being a mother more than anything but Tonya was the one person I could count on to talk to about it when it got to be too hard to handle. She wouldn’t sugarcoat anything and would validate me that it was ok to feel that way. With the birth of every child we’ve been in the waiting room for each other. The best way she showed me her love was by loving my children.
And my children loved her so much. When Tonya
lost her hair, I gave Nolan a talk that Aunt Tonya was going to look different
on our way to visit her. He asked me, “Is her name still Tonya? Did her voice
change? So in his 4 year old mind, he was convinced that Tonya was a man since
men are the only people that he’s seen bald. And when it came to my children,
she was more grandmotherly and went immediately to defending them anytime I
told her a story about some hair-pulling moment with them.
When Tonya first told me about finding the
lump, it was one of those, “You better get that checked out” conversations. I
cannot describe the 20 months after that that were filled with countless
appointments, treatments, medications, hair loss, and pain. And here we find
ourselves with her no longer in pain but yet our pain is so intense. Not the
same blinding rush of pain she had during her days with cancer but the pain
that feels like a part of us died because you can’t live very long without a
heart and our hearts are completely broken.
The hardest part of this is speaking of her
in the past tense. Saying I “had” a sister rather than “have” feels like I just
swallowed box full of nails as I try to form that one word.
I’m not a professor and I don’t have research
to back it up but I didn’t need a study to tell me that my sister promoted my
psychological health. Let us all remember Tonya, not as a woman battling
cancer, but as that fiery, spunky, and loving woman that will live on in all of
us.
*********
Tonya's middle name, Vanesse, means butterfly. We had a butterfly release service at our church to symbolize so many things about her new journey as an angel and free of cancer. The service was absolutely uplifting and very therapeutic. Her beautiful and brave girls whispered prayers into the envelopes that carried the butterflies and released them.
After I said my prayer and released my butterfly, it lingered on my finger. It was exactly what I needed to know that she's still with me.
She did the exact same thing for mom on her shirt sleeve and I'm so sure it was her way of saying, "Everything's going to be ok."
And so now the journey of healing begins and the best way I can describe it is looking at a huge mountain that seems impossible to climb and knowing that it's going to be so painful and you're going to fall down again, but the only way up is taking it one step at a time.
After I said my prayer and released my butterfly, it lingered on my finger. It was exactly what I needed to know that she's still with me.
The memories are seriously everywhere. Right now they are so painful but I know that one day, those memories will be such a source of joy. I know she's with me, I feel her but I miss her like crazy.
I love you Tonya.
Love your Anna Banana
