Sep 26, 2011

Silver Lining



It was easier than I had imagined.  We were all curled up in my bed all set for lights out because thats what we do on weekends.  MacDaddy was still in his dinner  and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to come clean.

Remember I told you I'm going to Davao next week?  And that I'm going because I will  meet hundreds and hundreds of sick people that might need help? I'm doing that because a long time ago Mama was sick just like them.  I had breast cancer also.  I was scared and didn't know anything about it.  And now that I'm okay I want those girls to know that they can get better also.

If you've been reading this blog for some time or actually spent more than five minutes with the boys you would know how different they are.  Night and day.  Day and night. And I mean it all in a good way.  Mak will sit through the scariest, most frightening scenes in a movie.  He will ask you every gory detail.  I once left him with MacDaddy and he sat through the entire Trainspotting flick.  I hear he didn't flinch once. Yes, even that scene with the vomit and the child demon on the ceiling. I know, I know.  Censor censor.  Whole other post for that one.  Tato, on the other hand,  needs to know the ending before a movie even begins before he agrees to sit through it.  He looks away and even runs away completely when a movie is sad or scary or springs a surprise.


If I made a bet  and guessed how each boy would  react,  I would have won big.    I had played the possible scenario in my head over and over again weeks before this and I was spot on.  Ha! I do know my boys.  



Mak:  You were sick before? What else?  What did you do?
Me: I did everything I could  to get better.  I listened to my doctor and followed him.  I even took this medicine that was so strong like a superhero fighting the bad guys that  my hair fell out.
Mak:  Wow! You looked like Papa with no hair?  Wow!

Tato: Forget about it.  Don't talk about Best Caster again.
Me: Its Breast Cancer.  Did someone tell you it was scary?  
Tato:  No I just know it.  Don't say it ever again. 
Me:  Okay deal.  But if you ever want to ask me anything about it, just ask okay? 

Bedtime prayers.  Bedtime hugs and kisses. End of story. End of discussion.  Lights out.

Days later,  all set and ready  to head to the airport to attend Silver Linings, our foundation's cancer conference and homecoming for over a thousand women diagnosed all over the country, Tato stood beside me and the bag I was packing and spoke in a whisper looking around making sure his brother wasn't around to hear it.  His pride gets the better of him lots of times. 

Tato:  Mama, what if you catch cancer from the girls where you're going?
Me: Cancer isn't like a cold or a cough, Tato.  And I'm not sick anymore.  I'm well.  

He gave me the biggest  kiss on the cheek and  we each went our way.  

My own little silver lining. 



10 comments:

Mieke Zamora-Mackay said...

My eyes are welling up here, Nana. I knew you would find the best words to tell them. I am actually very glad you did. Now they know, and they heard it from you.

ChichaJo said...

I laughed and I teared :,)

Classic: "You looked like Papa with no hair?" Haha!

Nana said...

Thanks for believing I would, Mieke!

Jo: Laughing and tearing all at once. Story of our lives with kids!

Cely said...

I know you already told me the story but I can't help it: Your post made my eyes tear up and also made me melt...
Your boys are true blessings... in every sense of the word!
I'm soooo proud of you ♥

An Accidental American said...

Priceless!

Nona said...

Now this one's a post to remember. See, you did it? As always you came through! One big check off your list : )

Nana said...

Thank you, Cely, Tish and Nona.
Yes big fat CHECK

marga said...

nana, you made me tear up a bit right there. i just actually asked macdaddy for your number again (switched phones and lost yours) because a dear friend's mother just got diagnosed with stage 2 cancer. i want her to meet you and other survivors so that she could draw strength from you guys. :-)

Barni said...

Woah. I felt that. Happy it's not a big elephant in the room anymore.

Nana said...

Marga, would love to meet her too.

Barn, yes. Sayonara to the elephant