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Forgiveness
is Key to
Healing
W
hen I got the call: “Rachel, you have cancer,”
I’d had two weeks to brace myself. So there’s only
a fleeting hot flash, and my arms and legs and
brain disconnect for a second. Then my mind goes somewhere
else… “Marina. What’s going to happen to her? What’s going to
happen to us?”
She’s my daughter, the person I love more than life, but I’ve
hurt her, more than a few times. I have bipolar disorder, and
my beautiful girl took the brunt of my rage. From her sippy cup
days, through her first adolescent crush, the wires in my head
would tighten, then pop, and I’d explode. Over spilled juice, lost
homework … things kids just do. Born into a family with mental
illness, my already vulnerable child spun out emotionally. She
crashed and burned, as did our relationship.
When the “cancer call” came, we were inching
toward healing, after eight years of reaching,
slipping, getting back up.
So, as I’m preparing to tell
Marina, “Mom’s sick,”
we’re past the blur
of ambulance rides,
all done with the
jaunts from one
adolescent
psyche unit
BY
RACHEL
PAPPAS
and special school to another. The mother-daughter
meltdowns are coming less often, and usually with less
force. She’s come out of her teen cave upstairs to cozy
up to me on the couch and tell me she’s going to start
a scrap book, that she wants to get married some day,
and to ask if I think she’ll be a good mother.
My tough girl is standing tall on her own in
new ways, but still fragile under her shell, as are we,
together. Because there is no undo button where
you can take back what you’ve done and start again,
plus you still slip sometimes. So the pressure’s on. It’s
in my face now: we all have only so much time to be
sure our good days leave a deeper imprint than the
not-so-great ones.
I’ve read stories where people say cancer completely changed them, allowed them to become the
person they always wanted to be. I wish I could say this
disease was that powerful. But, I can’t crown cancer as
the mother of wake up calls that forces you out of your
tired old skin, and you emerge as a flawless butterfly.
Becoming a better mom, a better person—the
one who knows how to love and accept at the
same time—has been a long process. I will at least
credit cancer for opening my eyes wide. It’s given me
perspective. I am reminded every day of what we’ve
all heard before, “Never go to bed angry at the one
you love.”
I’m doing okay on my learning curve, but I still
break into my “Ugly Dance” once in a while–where I
forget I don’t call every shot. I push my headstrong
daughter too hard, and the words come out not
sounding like who I want to be.
Oh yeah … no undo button. So I go for the
pause button. And I tell myself, we always have second
chances with the people we love, for as long as we
live. Making good with them—ironing out the rough
spots—is the way to forgiveness, and forgiveness is key
to healing from the inside out.
Rachel Pappas is three years out from Triple Negative
Breast Cancer. She’s a journalist, teaches
college writing classes and therapeutic
writing at support groups. She published
her memoir, Hopping Roller Coasters,
about her daughter and herself. Founder
of www.1UpOnCancer.com
www.thepinkpaper.com