The Grandma Edition

So Mum and Dad have done a bit of explaining to me about family; about how Mum has a Mum and Dad has one too, and how they each had Dads, too. They’ve explained Grandmas and Grandpas to me, about how both my Grandmas live far away and wish they could see me more often, and about how both of my Grandpas are gone forever now, but would have been so proud to know me if they were still with us. It all got so very confusing for my little brain, so Dad just told me that to make sure we don’t get confused between the two, we call Mum’s Mum Grannie and we call Dad’s Mom Grandma. This is me and my Grandma:

In all my time in the hospital, Mum and Dad kept on telling me about all these people who loved me, all these people who carried a piece of me in the hearts having only briefly met me, if at all. Since we’ve been home they’ve explained and demonstrated how important family is, and made me understand why so many people who love me wanted me out of the hospital and home with my fambly where I’m supposed to be. They explained that being family means loving unconditionally and loving always. So when Grandma phoned here a few weeks ago and told Mum and Dad that she has cancer, well, I got scared. Grandma is family. I want my Grandma to be with us for a long, long time.

I still don’t fully understand this cancer business, but Mum and Dad told me it’s a scary disease that isn’t always curable. Daddy tells me that he lost his Dad to cancer when he was just a little boy, which doesn’t seem fair to me at all that first Grandpa had it and now Grandma. But I overhead Mum on the phone today and heard that Grandma is going in to the hospital in the morning to have something called a lumpectomy. She hopes the doctors can cut away her breast cancer. Then after her surgery Grandma has to go to radiation treatments for five more weeks.

In the time that we’ve been home Mum and Dad have also told me lots and lots of stories about my Army, about all of you who said prayers and thought bright thoughts for me while I fought to come home. I got to thinking that if all of you were able to think healing thoughts for me when I was sick, maybe you could think about my Grandma tomorrow. I know she doesn’t need help beating cancer—she’s a fighter and will fight this, too—but a little bit of extra love on a scary day never hurt anyone. And love from my Army is pretty powerful, I know.