I had, (still have), a post half-written, discussing my disdain for the way I have been treated throughout my life by some family members. I was gearing up for the backlash, because I was planning on publishing the post today. That is, until I received an e-mail from my aunt yesterday evening. My cousin, whom just in the last year, I’ve started to get to know, was diagnosed with Stage 2-A, or 2-B colon cancer.

Yes, the news changed my perspective on a lot of family issues.

My cousin, Mark, is my mother’s 2nd oldest brother’s son. (Only in West Virginia could I describe the relationship in this manner). I have never been close to his kids, him, or my aunt. They don’t know I’m more like my mom than most believe, hell, I don’t think they even know I can even speak. But over the last year, Mark has been there for my mom-and myself, in small ways. Taking his time to change the brakes on my car, making sure my mom had items she needed and even getting her mail. No one has ever gone through the trouble in the past.

While he was changing the brake pads on my car last year, he said something that made me realize he “got it”- he understood what my mom and I had gone through, (and struggle with still). The first person, connected through blood, or otherwise, to not place blame on me and state, out loud, that I had been through just as much. I won’t say the exact words, doing so would give away too much. All that matters- I know someone sees beyond my shortcomings and understands.

According to my aunt’s e-mail, his outlook is excellent, he’s young, strong and has a positive attitude. The next step will be testing his lymph nodes and I assume surgery. He’ll be fine- I have no doubts at all. Maybe the news came during a time when a new perspective on life was needed. Family isn’t always perfect. I think I needed a reminder.

We all go through periods in our lives when we think back to being a kid and wish we could go back, if only for a day. Our only responsibilities revolved around homework and washing dishes after dinner. No bills to pay, no job to go to, or even worry about having one and although school drained us, we had 3 months of Summer to look forward to.

The other day, I couldn’t sleep and while lying in bed, I thought about what I would do if I had one day to go through my entire childhood. The following is what I would do. I consider myself an 80s kid, although, being born in 1973, my memories are from the late 70s to mid 80s.

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Ma meré is celebrating her birthday today- 64 years young, 36 of which she has spent wondering what she got herself into when she pushed me through her loins. The strongest woman I know, from a difficult childhood, to losing the love of her life at the young age of 43 and having to finish raising a kid on her own. If I could be half the person she is, I’d be content. Happy Birthday, Mommy. Love you.