I remember all the tears and cries and all the despair. I remember the painful feeling of my heart being torn into shreds. I swear at some point, the pain felt physical. It wasn’t the type of pain you’d feel in your heart, I could feel it everywhere, like I was just hit by an eighteen-wheeler and honestly, in that moment I would have rather had all my bones broken than to hear those words come out my sisters mouth. The image of her walking in my room with that broken expression, I’ll never forget. “It was cancer all along. I told her, I told her to check it out so many times and she never listened and now she’s gonna die…what if she dies?” What if she does die? then what? It didn’t seem real to me at first; our friend, Mona, having cancer? No. That’s just something that couldn’t happen, it shouldn’t happen.
I remember how I literally laughed it off and told my sister to get a grip. “So what? She’s not the first person to get cancer and she most likely will survive so there’s no use in crying.” But deep down, I felt this burn, like something was eating me up. Still, I refused to shed a single tear. What were my tears gonna do? miraculously cure Mona’s leukemia? No, tears were no help. I never visited her in the hospital, not once. Maybe it was a fear of hospitals after my mom’s stroke or the fear of breaking down in front of her but I denied all of this and kept convincing myself “I just don’t have the time for a visit.” Sometimes, I really wish I had visited her but if time was reversed, I know I still wouldn’t go. The thought of a close friend fighting such a hard battle was a hard pill for me to swallow but walking in the cold hospital room and seeing her so lifeless and tired, that hurt a different way; it scared me a different way.
After she was done with her emergency treatment, they sent her home. I remember my visit like it was just last week. Mona always kept her hair short, but seeing all of it shaved off sent shivers down my spine. Seeing her limp while walking almost made me nauseos. I didn’t say anything though. If anything, I pretended as if she hadn’t been under harsh radiation a week before. As if she wasn’t struggling with a rare condition that mostly resulted into the victims dying. This was just another ordinary visit. Another ordinary day. Mona was the same too. She wouldn’t let her condition peek through, she couldn’t. I guess we both shared the fear of vulnerability. I had promised myself to not cry for her, because “tears were no use” yet I couldn’t help but weep every night and cry myself to sleep. I always wondered “how’s Mona handling all of this? How’s she living her life thinking her days are most likely numbered?”
The funniest thing about this whole situation was how Mona was probably the most positive out of all us. At first I’d tell myself it’s probably cause she doesn’t want to lose herself but soon realized it’s much more than that. Mona’s positivity and strength was beyond anyone’s expectations, even her doctors! The way she carried herself as if nothing was wrong, nothing was hurting or out of place was honestly amazing. I was never a believer in energies and other things related to that, I didn’t believe in karma, the law of attraction or anything else. Mona, on the other hand, was a sole believer of energies and their powers and effects, especially after what had happened to her; she believed any energy you put out into this world will surely find its way back to you, positive or negative. Mona never once spoke the word “if”, she never asked her doctors about her chance at life and yet, she was constantly making plans for the future; like going back to London to continue school, adopting a cat, and even where she wanted to celebrate her next birthday!
Her view on life and the future changed something in me, almost as if it inspired me. Just like Mona, I stopped using “if” or “maybe” , in fact I became more assertive with my dreams and future plans. I stopped thinking about the negative outcomes and instead, focused on all the good things that could, and would happen. As much as Mona’s battle effected her life, it effected mine as well, both for the worse and better; seeing a loved one struggle with daily tasks and life in general is something none of us wish to see and I am no exception to that, but just like Mona always said, “Everything happens for a reason.”
At the time I didn’t understand what she meant by that, I didn’t want to. How could something so bad happen for a “reason”? What’s the reason behind bad things happening to good people? But now, I feel all of it, in my bones. What happened to my friend, was unfortunate and will always be apart of her life, and mine. But because of this unfortunate event, Mona found a strength in her none of us thought she had, she faced life with a newer and better perspective and because of her, so did I. Obviously this whole story doesn’t revolve around me, but it did impact me more than anything else in my life and I’ve learned lessons from it that have shaped me into the person I am today.
As for Mona, she continues her battle with the negative effects left on her body and I know deep down, she’ll overcome all of them like she did with cancer itself. After all, any energy you put out into this world will find its way back to you and with all the positive impact Mona’s had on this world, I know she’ll get through any obstacle life sets on her path.
