I don’t remember where I was when my sister told me she had cancer. She was 37 years old. She felt a cyst. The doctors removed it and that’s when they discovered it was malignant. We were all in shock. We couldn’t believe this was happening. Our family went through a nine-year battle with lung cancer with my dad from 2003-2012. We couldn’t believe it was happening again.

The doctors could not find the primary source of my sister’s cancer, yet they wanted to treat it aggressively. She started treatment at the beginning of 2017. She had two major surgeries that spring. One which was over 20 hours. But she was so strong she pulled through and went home just a few days later even though we almost lost her on the table.

I couldn’t believe how strong she was as she battled cancer and went through treatment. She would have surgery and be home in the next few days taking care of her kids, working as a nurse, and being a great wife.

We all thought and prayed that she would kick cancer’s ass. She fought so hard but it seemed the more surgery they did, the more aggressive it became. In the end, she was hospitalized and became jaundice. She came home, and we tried to get her hospice care. She was coherent, loving, and talked about continuing the fight but she was very weak and her body was ravaged. I thought for sure she would get stronger. We talked about future plans and possible treatment options.

Although at times I regret I didn’t pack up Gram and leave PA sooner, I was glad we got to spend her last six days with her. My boyfriend (who later became my husband), and I tried to distract the kids from her failing health by taking them to the park. We continued to try to make life as normal as possible, but they knew something was terribly wrong.

Less than a week after she came home from the hospital, we lost her. We were all there by her side as she took her last breath. Her son was only two and a half so he didn’t really understand. Her daughter who was five was crushed as we all were. It was the most difficult thing I have had to watch. Even though we were there when my dad and my grandfather went, seeing such a terrible disease take such a young life was devasting.

Looking back I wonder if I could have or should have done something different. With my dad, I had nine years to process it. I came home as often as I could from Virginia to spend time with him. I went to Virginia as often as I could from Pennsylvania to see my sister, but looking back I wish I would have gone more. I just thought I would have more time. I never thought she would be gone in just 18 short months.

My advice to you is to take the time to do the things that are important to you. Don’t miss visiting family or friends because you are too busy or you are holding a grudge for some reason. Make the time. Seize the moment and enjoy it. You never know when that moment to see them will be gone.