For breast cancer awareness month, I wanted to share about someone close to my heart, my Oma. If you didn't know, Oma means grandmother in German. Although I called her by a German name because that was the heritage of my grandfather, she was very much Italian. She was loud, outspoken, and let everyone know exactly what she was thinking. She loved to cook and I never left her home hungry. Being the youngest of all the grandchildren, I would be lying if I said I didn't get some special treatment. She loved me with every ounce of her being. When I was little, I remember the countless hours she would play Barbie dolls with me, read me bedtime stories when I would spend the night, and always hold me in her arms as we rocked in the big green rocking chair in her family room. There is something so special about being a little kid and spending time with your grandparents. Over the years, I grew up, but she stayed the same silly, loving Oma that I adored and would even try to fit me in her lap even though I had far surpassed the age and size of being able to rock in that rocking chair with her.

The summer before the 8th grade was one of the hardest I had experienced. After fighting breast cancer as best as she could and enduring chemotherapy, the doctors shared with our family that they didn't believe my Oma would make it much longer. Cousins, aunts, uncles, and relatives all gathered around her during this time. We stood by her on the good days and reminisced about all the great times we’ve had and we stood by her on the hard days when did everything we could to comfort her. It’s heartbreaking to see how cancer can transform someone into a completely different person. Her beautiful brown, curly hair, was now gone. The lively Oma, who used to sing and dance in the kitchen, now lay still in her bed, too weak to move on her own. 

In July of that summer, she took her last breath. When you’re young, sometimes it can be hard to understand these situations. All I felt was pain and sadness and confusion as to why I didn't get to grow up with her in my life. It is hard to look past our own grievances in times of hurt, but as I grew up I looked at the situation from her perspective. I realized how strong she was. How during that time she was in an incredible amount of pain, yet never complained. How she must have been fearful to leave her own family, yet never wept. How her identity was stripped from her and not once did she take pity on herself. Through the hardest time in her life she was her strongest and her beauty shone the brightest. Although breast cancer was the last chapter of her story, it did not define her. She did not allow it to drive out all the light and love she experienced throughout her life. To all the ones still fighting, the ones surviving, and ones we may have lost, you have inspired us with your strength and you are even more beautiful after everything you have been through.

Artist

Will Schorer