Chapter 64 - Genocide
‘You’re strong.’ These words have been said to me many times. I understand the insinuations, the connotations. The translation of these words is as follows: Helen can accept the put downs, the unfair pay and the label of inferiority that has been placed upon her for so long.
But you see…I cannot. Externally this may have appeared to be so, but internally…well.
I know of at least three or four family members, including Uncle Hector, that have had, or continue to have cancer, in its many forms. I should not be surprised that the curse has reached me too. There is a theory that it can be contagious. If those around you have cancer, and you panic that you may have it, then there is almost an inevitability that you will get it. I expect my poor lifestyle habits, diet, inactivity and obesity; the things that I accused my father of, before his misdiagnosis, have contributed to my ill health.
Mum is by my side in my last days. I don’t see any other family members anymore. I haven’t for a few years. I have tried to contact Nathan, asking him to come, but he hasn’t answered his phone. Mum says he is very busy. “Too busy to see his dying sister. A preferable place is in his beautiful house with his beautiful wife and children. It’s the ‘Same as it ever was’, to quote one of his favourite songs,” I say.
Mother says cancer can make you irrational, and I must not think that way. “Besides, Nathan’s in-laws are having problems with their health at the moment. You must understand that Nathan needs to be there for his wife and children,” she tells me.
“Well, I wish them a speedy recovery. I’ve only met them a few times, but they seem to be good people.”
What about my parents? My father —understandably— won’t contact me. I wonder how much company he had when he was mistakenly diagnosed with cancer. I will never know. I have only ever known about certain aspects of his life; the bits that he chose to reveal.
My mother. I need to tell her something.
“I know I have been troublesome for you. I’ve let you down. But I really wanted the best for you. I wanted to undo all the chaos in your life but failed. Perhaps I’ve made it worse.”
This terminal disease has enabled me to realise how lonely my life has been. My thoughts move from one explanation to another. For although cancer exists in my family, there is something darkly coincidental about having such a disease, not long after my Uncle and Father’s diagnoses. As I lie here, staring at the four walls of a hospital room, I wonder if certain family members believe my terminal cancer to be a success story; a triumph in removing the unfeeling, the useless and repulsive from the planet. The idiom ‘Separating the wheat from the chaff’, springs to mind. But the chaff protects the seed. Doesn't it?
I realise now, that there has always been a sinister aggression from certain family members towards me, which is more ailing than any form of hatred that I have witnessed and experienced outside of my family. I realise that it has had a significant impact on my state of mind and consequently my health. Some believe there is a causal link between depression, hostile surroundings, and the development of some kinds of cancer, a notion that is nonsensical and possibly offensive to some. Yet, if there is a proven link between hostile environments, depression and cancer, I do hope it is recognised and remedied.
My last days…surely the hate towards me should cease now.
