February 26th

 In a previous post, I shared how February had been a challenging month for me.  But then, a profound realization dawned on me-February 26 is a day of extraordinary significance in my life.  

It is the anniversary of my mastectomy- February 26, 2020. 

It is the anniversary of my next-door neighbor's heart attack- February 26, 2022. She is a mother of three beautiful girls and a grandmother to several beautiful grandchildren.  Amazing little people she has grown.  We all thought we would lose her. The initial prognosis was not great, but she fought her way back, and she is doing great.  Her name is Jessica. 

Just over two months ago, we lost another neighbor on February 26, 2024. His name was Jason.  He was a "life of the party" kind of guy.  He was a welcoming neighbor. He was a good friend to all, or at the very least, one of the acquaintances who made everyone smile when he was around.  He just got people in a good mood. 

Just days before his memorial service, several neighbors were sitting around and I noticed Jessica was taking the loss particularly hard.  Her family and Jason's family were very close and it was not a surprise that she would be deeply affected.  Then I heard her mention that it was the anniversary of her heart attack.   I had been thinking several times during the day about the anniversary of my mastectomy.  It's one of those life events, a stop on my cancer journey, that I can never really forget. It's one of those dates that was striking dread in me every year.  I said, " February 26th has been hard on our friend group. My mastectomy was on February 26th, too."  I looked over at another of our friend group and realized the pattern had hit her at the same time. Three neighbors, all two years apart and all with the same first initial "J." 

I had no idea what would come next.  The entire conversation shifted. The mood changed.  In the grief cycle, many of our friends and neighbors seemed to be at a point of acceptance. Many were commenting on his "homegoing" gathering and who would and would not be able to make it. I knew it would be a large gathering of supportive friends and community members. Jason's loss would be felt by so many people. My husband was planning to go, but I would have to miss it because of a critical work event.  It had taken months to get things scheduled due to needing the availability of dozens of people. It simply could not be rescheduled.  

One of our neighbors said, "Well, no one would have come to your funeral because out of the three of you, no one would miss you. No one cares." 

I can assure you —I know that's true —but it really hurt to hear it said out loud. It hurt to have it put into the world for everyone to pile on.  They all made sure to pile on.  I listened to all of the comments- about how my cancer wasn't "real" because I didn't have to go through chemo and/or radiation. I see the scar- the place where I lost a breast to my "not real cancer." I had finally gotten the courage to ask my surgeon for a referral to a plastic surgeon to discuss reconstruction. No-one knew. I wish I had been the 'J' neighbor who passed away.  I wish my insignificant life could take the place of someone cherished like Jason.

They laughed at how funny it would  have been for them to all show up in MY yard to drink and "cope," only no-one would be sad at all because I wouldn't be missed. 

I just hugged the neighbor and the daughter and said, "You all have my condolences. I am so sorry I won't be able to be there to say goodbye." 

I haven't seen or spoken to many of them since that day, and I can't see a scenario in which that will happen again.  Maybe putting this on paper and releasing it to the universe will penetrate someone's soul. 

2020 was the year of cancer. It was the year of COVID. It was the year that should have taken me. Yet it did not take me.  I don't know why I was spared. I am ashamed to be alive while someone like Jason is gone. I guess I am here to take on the anger, the shame, and whatever else there is.   They put into the universe how they really feel, and unfortunately, it's not a "take back" situation —not that any of them would.  It's not even the first time they have said something about how I "ruin everything." Only, the first time, they acted like they didn't mean it and just said it out of a moment of having too much to drink. As the saying goes "When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time."