To a young girl that looked up to her father for everything; guidance, love, support, and encouragement; trying to make my childlike brain understand why he was gone was unfathomable. I was trying to comprehend the answer to my own question; What is Mesothelioma? Because everyone was to scared or to upset to answer me. I went to the one person besides my father that I could trust wholehearted, my mother. I looked at her and asked the inevitable question that I had been repeating only to myself; What is Mesothelioma? I knew it could not be good because she began crying and just hugged me.
I remember that was the precise moment when my very fragile 12 year old life change forever. I was turned around by my aunt and led away from my mother by the hand. My aunt told me that she wanted to talk to me in my bedroom and answer all the questions I had. Finally! I had someone that was willing to answer my questions and explain to me what was going on. I practically raced to my room with my favorite aunt and we sat on my bed. I began with the same question; What is Mesothelioma? But then my aunt asked me where I heard such a big word. I told her I heard my mother say it the other day, so I figured it had something to do with why everyone was crying and upset.
She shook her head in agreement and began to explain to me what I had been wanting to know this whole time. She explained to me that because my father was such a hard worker and a good provider he would work in whatever circumstances he would have to in order to earn a paycheck to support his family. Due to this however he got a form of cancer that is acquired from direct contact with asbestos. She must have known what my next question was going to be since she continued on to tell me that asbestos was a chemical that was deadly and also found in old paint. When the paint was chipped off or blasted off the asbestos would be in the dust and my father breathed it into his lungs.
I sat on the edge of my bed and at that very moment was when I began to hate the cancer, I hated the disease because I knew that it was the reason why my father was not with us anymore. My aunt, my father’s sister, finally answered my question. She looked at me and told me that I may not want to know, What is Mesothelioma? I remember beginning to cry and I think I asked her why, or something to that effect.
She was very quick to tell me never to ask why, but just have reasoning and faith that my father is looking down on me now and he is making sure I am taken care of. We must have sat on my bed for a very long time together, and she answered every question I had. Some I did not want to know the answers to, but I needed to know. I remember falling asleep and waking up in her arms that afternoon. She never once left my side and for that I will forever love her.