I don't quite know how to start off this letter, as I don't really know how to start to say goodbye. How do you say goodbye to somebody you've loved your whole life? How do you say words you never thought you'd have to say?
Never in a million years did I think that this is how you would go, that this is how you would be taken from us. If you had caught me back when I was 15 and asked if I thought that my beloved aunt who had devoted her life and soul to the lord would be fighting cancer, I'd tell you it could never happen.
But, I learned very quickly that cancer does not discriminate. Cancer will take whomever it chooses, despite the amount of prayers, love, and hope we send out into the abyss.
I still remember the day I found out. The night before, everyone was gathering at grams for an extremely rare occasion - a visit from you. It was exciting and terrifying when I heard the news that you were coming down from the Monastery and staying the weekend, as typically Nuns are not allowed to leave the Monastery for any general reason, let alone for leisure. At the time you were coming down my cousin and I were not speaking, though I can barely remember why now. That night while I was working and you spent your first night home with your parents in very many years, I received a text from my cousin that read "Hey, when you talk to Aunt Sally tomorrow, text me. I know we're not on the best of terms but just text me, okay?" So then the worry became more prominent and it seemed as though I was being terrorized that night as I dreamed. The next day I went to my grams, and soon enough the world was crumbling around me. I was not prepared in the slightest to hear what I was about to hear, for nothing in this world can prepare you for the news that cancer has riddled it's way into your loved one. No one and nothing can prepare you for the news that the cancer isn't just at its beginning stages, but that its just nearing its end. That, from the moment the cancer formed in your body until the moment you noticed an abnormality and went for a doctor's visit, you had not even the slightest clue that cancer was taking over your body. I thank the Lord that your disease was, for the majority of the time before this past year and some, painless. I thank the Lord that we were lucky enough to have so much more time with you than what was originally thought. I thank the Lord for the many blessings already bestowed upon my family; for my amazing nephew and niece, for the wonderfully supportive family we are, and so much more.
But now, with each and every passing day, I wake up knowing full well that the time span of two weeks to two months left for you is only a number, that this means nothing. The Lord will take you when he pleases, and no amount of prayers to Him, to Mary, to Joseph, to the Seven Martyrs, or to any Saint, will change the Lord's mind.
