The Thief

Today marks my nine-year cancer anniversary. And for the past nine years, I have relied on words to help me navigate and process my cancer journey. But for the past few weeks, while trying to untangle my grief as a sister from my survivor’s guilt, I have struggled to find the right words—ones that could somehow diminish the heartbreak of watching my brother lose his battle to cancer.

There aren’t any. 

Since Troy passed, there are only words to remember him, honor him, and try to make sense of a world without him.

Troy and I had the unique perspective of being siblings who were only five months apart in age. While we didn’t share any DNA, we were never anything less than siblings. In fact, he was my brother for only a few years less than my biological brother. 

Troy and I navigated so many of life’s seasons simultaneously and my heart has yet to fully accept that our final chapter together has closed. 

One of the hardest things about being a cancer survivor is losing other people to the disease. It stings even more when that person is your brother and he loses to the same type of cancer you’ve faced.

Troy did the hard things.

He showed up again and again-for the chemo, for the surgeries, for the scans, for the hospital stays, and for the endless doctors’ appointments. Even when it seemed impossible, he fought. He pushed and challenged the boundaries of our medical system in ways that will strongly benefit other cancer patients for years to come.  

And he did it all while protecting his family, traveling, attending Lions games, and keeping his sense of humor (maybe a little stubbornness too). 

I am incredibly proud of him.

Cancer has taken a lot from me over the past nine years. It has taken time, health, certainty, and pieces of the life I thought I would have.

Monday, it took my brother.

Cancer is a thief.

But it does not get to take the memories, the laughter, the ridiculousness of our antics, or the times we shared. Troy was boisterous, silly, and the life of every party. He had an incredible sense of humor, quick wit, big heart, and a way of making people laugh wherever he went. 

Those are the things I will carry with me as I move forward in a world that feels foreign without him.

Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass; it’s about learning to dance in the rain. ~Robin Roberts