Letter to my sons

My beautiful warrior sons,

I cannot imagine how difficult it was for you to hear me say I have cancer, knowing there is nothing you can do to make it better, and you are headed back across the country to your respective colleges. I know you each have strong support at school and from each other. The expressions on your faces as I shared the news are imprinted permanently in my mind. I am touched to be loved so deeply by my boys. 

You are yin and yang. As you absorbed my news, your natural tendencies flared. Ben was empathetic to me and everyone else. He also reflected my confidence that this was treatable and was not fatal. He almost seemed unaffected, although I know that was not the case. Taylor felt terrible that he wouldn’t be home to help care for me, and his mind ran rapidly through the what-if scenarios. His emotional reaction was immediate and visible.

At that moment, I wanted to hug you and knew that you needed a role to play in my cancer journey from afar. First and foremost, your role is to bring me “nachas” - “pride or gratification, especially at the achievements of one's children” Oxford Languages. Whether through your coursework, thesis/writing, involvement with Chabad, clubs, or performance on the field, the dynamism of your campus life is an entertaining diversion from my routine. Second, I have a job for each of you. Ben, I want a soundtrack for my drives to and from appointments and infusion day. I didn’t realize how much of that day would be spent sleeping, but when I was awake, I wanted good music. Taylor, I wanted a weekly letter that would be a special treat for the infusion day. I don’t care what the letter says. Our history of writing to each other is often emotional and delicious.

 I recommend you tell people because you don’t know who will support you or when you need it. For both of my boys, I strongly encourage you to tell your Chabad Campus Rabbis, each of whom I knew would be experienced in supporting students through this experience and offering comfort. Additionally, I welcome any prayers that can be directed my way. For Taylor, you should also let your head coach know what was happening.  

Remember that you have a lot of people from within and around our family who will always lend an ear. And I will answer any question you ask honestly and completely. No holding back. Although the BRCA1 gene doesn’t have as big an impact on your health, it does elevate some of your cancer risks if you have it. There is no shame in wondering what my cancer means for you, although I hope you know that it means the same thing as my positive BRCA1 test. You have a 50% chance of having the mutation, and you should tell every doctor about your medical history so that you can access aggressive active monitoring. Cancer caught early is obliteratable. 

I’m prepared. I’m healthy. I’m strong. I’m tough. This isn’t a surprise as much as a setback. I’ve had forty years to prepare myself for this moment. My approach is clear, and I’m ready to execute it. I’m going to be aggressive in my treatment and proactively manage my side effects. Dad, Jessica, and my community are stepping up to help with meals, rides, and diversions. I intend to experience everything I can enjoy this year, so expect to see me on campus. I hope you will call frequently because talking with you brings me joy, and I intend to seek out as much joy as possible every day of my cancer obliteration project. Thank you for indulging me. I love you.

Love,

Mom