believe

i wish i could say with all authority that i had a good weekend. saturday was fun--picked up rene from the airport, had lunch, saw pics of new york. sunday was my cousin's fiancee's wedding shower--so i got to see my mom, my aunt, my just-married cousin and about 10 friends of my aunt's. it was fun and the weather was perfect.

my cousin shelly, however, and her daughter lauren, weren't there. my aunt was concerned so she called shelly.

after the shower, when it was just my mom and aunt and my cousin, my aunt revealed that shelly's sister, my cousin donna, had been in the hospital again this weekend. her intestines shut down. the doctors restarted them, but shelly had spent pretty much the whole weekend in bed with donna.

standing on the warm front lawn yesterday my aunt said, she's such a fighter. i just don't know how much longer she can fight.

i cried most of the way home.

***

it's not like i know donna well--but she's my cousin, older by probably 10 years or so, and she has the most beautiful smile.

when i was a kid, i remember staying at her parent's house over christmas--it was only a few blocks from my grandma's house, which was chock full to the seams, and shelly and donna weren't home that year. i got to sleep in shelly's room, if i remember correctly. shelly had a waterbed--something i'd never slept on--and the door to her room wasn't shut all the way. i fell asleep listening to my parents and aunt and uncle drink coffee and smoke, and laugh, and staring at shelly's graduation picture on the wall.

i was probably about nine and wanted to grow up now now now--for various reasons, i didn't want to be a child any longer--anyway when you're nine you dream of being like whoever it is in your life that is your dream. shelly and donna were my dreams. i wanted to have donna's feathered blonde hair and shelly's ready laugh. i wanted the independence i dreamt they were exploring--and they were, i'm sure of it.

my sisters and i would play dress-up in my family's basement. our most common play theme was being on a ship that was marooned--i'm fairly certain that came from watching "swiss family robinson" a few too many times. sometimes we'd mix it up and play that we were in college--sharing a room, going to class, dressing up for a dance. that was an idea that stemmed directly from me wanting so badly to be older and prettier and not me--i wanted to be donna or shelly, pretty and independent and strong.

of course life goes on. you forget these things. you forget longing for your frizzy red hair to be white-blonde, and your strange hazel eyes to turn some color--brown, green, blue, pick one. you grow up and forget who your role models were when you were younger.

***

last weekend was my other cousin's wedding--tis the season, i suppose. this was my cousin chris--donna and shelly's younger brother. donna's been going through chemo for so long that i honestly cannot remember when she was not fighting that insiduous second being, cancer.

she'd just had chemo that week, but she was there. her smile was the same--bright and shiny, despite being weak and tired. she's lost her hair, but she has a great wig, one she calls her "candy" wig, that's a dark brown and makes her blue eyes that much more blue.

when i hugged her i could feel how terribly thin she's become. during the actual ceremony i saw her and her husband clinging to each other--listening to the vows, watching as her little brother became a husband.

i remember when donna and biz got married--nearly 20 years ago now, i think. you cannot know in the ensuing years what will happen. they have two children, a house, a dog, jobs and lives, and this thing, this cancer, has entered into their lives and changed everything. it's an unwanted guest, one that just will not leave.

but she was smiling. despite being in a great deal of pain--the kind that necessitates massive doses of drugs, and still lingers--she was smiling.

i realized while standing there that the strength and independence and beauty for which i longed when i was younger was still there--made stronger over time. your heroes when you're young grow up too--but they don't have to stop being your heroes.

months and months ago they made bracelets--a royal blue color--with donna's motto on it: believe always. i haven't worn it in a long time, but i recall it often. in the same way i think of my uncle jed and his saying, "little by slow." i look at my own life--the small hills and valleys through which i travel, the complaints that fill my days--and they are tiny compared to the paths donna and jed have traveled. miniscule compared to the paths of others on this planet.

i realized long ago that i would never have donna's blonde hair, feathered and falling neatly. she no longer has her hair, either. but the inner core of her--the strength and independence that i saw, years ago, and longed for--that is still there.