"Pink M&Ms"

July 2, 1981: I was sleeping in the bedroom with my cousins Chris, Debbie, and Eric at their house near Chatham. The sound of a car engine woke me up. I looked around, and the others heard it, too. We blinked, stared at each other for a bit, then went back to sleep. We were all tired from staying up late the night before to watch the Canada Day fireworks displays that were off in the distance. A little later Chris got up, left the room, then came back in. The rest of us were awake, he sat on the bed. He looked at us and said "Mom and Aunt Barb left for town early this morning. Grandma died last night."

Every weekend for a couple of months before that day Mom and I made the journey from our home just outside of London to my Aunt Joan's house just outside of Chatham. I visited Grandma once or twice in the hospital. She never let on that she was scared or in pain.

I knew Grandma was sick, although my Mom never told me from what. Her hair had fallen out, and she was very weak. No matter what, whenever I walked in the room she still always had energy to flash me a big smile and spend time talking with me. I had no idea those conversations with her would be my last.

It wasn't until months after the funeral I was looking for something on Mom's dresser and found Grandma's obituary. She had died of breast cancer. She had found some lumps, went to her doctor, and he dismissed her concerns by telling her they had always been there. He went on vacation. By the time he came back more lumps had grown, and his vacation had become her death sentence. And my loss.

It wasn't until years later that my cousin Debbie opened up about what went on during the weekdays when I wasn't there. How she would watch Grandma go for chemotherapy, and then would watch her throw up for the next couple of days.

I was 12 years old when she passed away. I grew up more that summer than I ever had in the past. I missed her Irish lilt when she spoke, her laugh, her smile, her warmth, and her love. I can't miss her spirit because it is still alive in those who knew her.

October is breast cancer awareness month. Tonight I had to stop off at the pharmacy to buy some things, and saw the Pink M&M's on the shelf. I bought a bag of them and have been eating them while writing this post. With each M&M I eat I hope that I help someone else's granddaughter to never have to experience what I did.

But more importantly, each M&M I eat is dedicated to you, Grandma. I still miss you and I will always love you.