October 21, 2007, I got a call from my grandma, and she’d been crying. My grandma, along with the rest of the family, was at the hospital with my aunt, she was sick. My grandma called me to get a hold of my mom. Even though the words never came out of her mouth, I could tell something was wrong when I heard her crying. My aunt passed away from cancer two years ago, today. She was my hero, my role model, my everything.

She’d fought cancer for a little over six years. She was diagnosed with stomach cancer in 2001, and the doctor told her that she had a little over six months left to live. She’d managed to fight to stay healthy for about five years after she was told only six months. Then, in the beginning of October 2007, she’d gotten really sick and was hospitalized. My family did everything that they could to be by her side and keep her happy. On the day she checked into the hospital, the doctors were surprised on how much of a fighter she was. They pulled my grandma out of the room to tell her that once again, she had six more months to live. When we were told that, we immediately thought that my aunt could fight for five more years. We were sadly mistaken.
She was, and still is the most optimistic person I’ve ever met. No matter what she was feeling or how she was feeling she always had a positive outlook on things. Over those six years, she did her best to get to everyone in our family to change their lives in some kind of way, whether it was teaching the young ones a new word or taking us older kids to see the new Harry Potter movie. She’d get to everyone. I’ve spent nights in the hospital with her, praying that we’d get through the night, that we could have just one more day with her. I went to her for everything and I felt like I could tell her everything. Whatever was on my mind, she’d know. She was excepting of everyone, and their decisions. My aunt was very intrigued by what others were feeling and thinking. She would strive daily to better people’s moods if they were down, and she did a great job in doing that.
October 27, 2007, seven days later, her service was held at the church she had attended every Sunday. If she wasn’t able to make it to church, Pastor Ken would come to her no matter where she was. She changed so many people’s lives, and she’ll never be forgotten. She means the world to me, and if there was anything I could do to have her back, I’d do it. “If you realized how powerful your thoughts were, you’d never again think a negative thought.” Something my aunt rarely had in her head, a negative thought.