It's Not About the Why, It's About The Win

My Son, My Hero

I’m sure it’s every parent’s dream to be a hero to their kids. I’m so proud to say that the hero role is reversed in my world. My sons are my heroes. Every day.

Last night’s St. Baldrick’s event was very moving, and the stories of kids like Andrew and others who have fought or are still fighting cancer helped to bring more awareness about the issue of childhood cancer, which is very important. The event also put siblings of cancer kids in the spotlight, and I’m so very glad it did. These are the unsung heroes in a family’s fight against childhood cancer. Out of nowhere, their needs seem less important than their brother or sister’s fight to survive. Their activities take a back seat to appointments, fever watches, and hospital stays. The money to do fun family things often gets depleted as families struggle to just keep their heads above water. The siblings seem to fade into the background and somehow their limelight gets lost, though I’m positive no parent would ever intend for it to be that way. Mike and I try so hard not to let it happen, but I know it has, and the guilt of it feels suffocating sometimes.

Not long after Andrew was first diagnosed, when we had been home from the hospital just a day or two, I escaped in a few moments with Michael. I told him how sorry I was that this was happening to all of us, and I told him I was worried about him feeling less important in our family, or second to Andrew. I’ll never forget his response. He looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Mom, I am less important right now, and that’s okay.” It wasn’t okay with me then, and it’s still not okay with me now. But in terms of which son demanded more of my attention and energy, Michael was right – so much of that had to go to Andrew, we just didn’t have much of a choice.

Then, not even four months later, suddenly Michael’s survival became our focus. Now it was Michael fighting to live, fighting to recover, and fighting to regain his place in our shattered world. And even then – in the middle of his own difficult and painful recovery – he would say, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. Worry about Andrew.” Of course I worried about them equally – in the early days after Michael’s accident, I’m positive I worried about Michael more. But as time went on, the demands of Andrew’s treatment overshadowed Michael once again. We didn’t mean for it to happen, it just happened. I spend as much time as I can just talking with Michael, when I can squeeze myself in to his busy schedule of school, guitar, and “just hanging” with his friends. I treasure every second I have with him, but I know that he can sense the powerful grip Andrew’s treatment has on my psyche, even when I try so hard to push it away.

No matter the circumstances, being the sibling of a cancer kid is hard. Being the sibling of a cancer kid while fighting for your own recovery, seems too much to bear. But Michael has done it, and he continues to shoulder these very heavy burdens every day. He’s strong and courageous – and so very important – in so many amazing ways.

My son. My hero. Times two.

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