Cancer is a fucking thief. Cancer stole every fucking thing from me. Before cancer ever stole Ariella, it had already taken so much from us. Cancer stole our lives. Our feeling of safety, of security. Cancer stole our carefree, mostly worry-free existence.
Cancer stole Ariella’s childhood. Even when she was still here. Cancer stole her innocence, her ability to just be a child. She went from happy-go-lucky to being anxious about needles and chemo, surgeries and radiation. Instead of being nervous about dance competitions she was terrified of scans and the results. Cancer stole Ariella’s ability to dance for a year and a half. Her passion, and one of the few things that would have helped her get through all the bad days was cruelly taken from her, because of the location of the tumor. Cancer stole her normalcy. She couldn’t attend school. She traded camp and vacations for lengthy hospitalizations.
With everything cancer stole, it didn’t stop there. Our lives were irreparably changed once Ariella was diagnosed. We felt like we had been through a war when she finally finished treatment the first time and our fear and anxiety remained, rightfully so, since cancer returned only 5 months later to steal even more from us.
Cancer had already taken so much from us, ripped us to shreds, gutted us. And continued to try to take our spirits. But none of that ended up mattering. Because cancer stole the most precious, the most important. I would trade anything to have her back. I would put up with anything to have her back.
The thievery didn’t stop with our lovely daughter. Cancer continued, continues to steal. Cancer stole my reason for living, my purpose, my identity, my most important role. Cancer stole my joy, my ability to enjoy life. Cancer stole my future. Future milestones with Ariella. Our mother-daughter relationship. My New York buddy, musical buddy. Future memories. I will miss out on talking about boys, teaching her to drive, sending her off to college, planning her wedding, having grandchildren. Cancer stole my ability to enjoy things I used to love. The beach was one of my favorite places but now just a reminder of who isn’t there. I used to love going to NY, even before Ariella but now the thought of setting foot in that city, or even on a train horrifies me because she should be there. Books and TV shows are filled with triggers as is social media. National daughter day? What the hell is that? Cancer stole my ability to just be, just relax. Regular, everyday activities were stripped from my routine. No more picking up from school, helping with homework, watching TV together, reading together, movie night, game night, driving to the dance studio, watching her dance, just parenting. Cancer stole all of that from me. I’m not just missing my daughter, I’m missing everything that goes along with being a parent. Cancer not only stole my daughter’s life, but stole my life as well. Cancer stole who I was. I will never be that person again.
My heart truly breaks for you, David and her friends. No one can truly understand what you are going through, living with and living without. Everyone handles death on their own way. One thing you were truly bless is the fact that you all had such a closeness as a family, and did so much together. You have more then a lot of families too truly miss. ❤️🙏🏻🌈
No one who loved Ariella and loves you guys will ever be the same. I think about her constantly from the moment I get up until I go to bed (which is earlier and earlier just to make the days pass) and in my dreams. I often can’t read these posts all the way through so many I times leave them until quiet weekend mornings or alone at night so the sadness doesn’t paralyze me when I have to work or do day to day crap. Cancer stole just about everything from me too – Ariella and you in so many ways – because as horrible as this is for me and the people who love her, I know it is 1000 times more horrible for you and David. I’d trade places with her in a minute if I could.
I am so sorry.