This Is What Remembering Feels Like

As the 4th cancerversary of my daughter Quinn’s brain cancer diagnosis of a Primitive Neuroectodermal Tumor leered up to greet me, and the thoughts and memories in my mind became tangled and stressful, I sat and wrote about what remembering looks like to me, what remembering feels like to me.

I jammed my finger in a door last week. The pain was excruciating and literally bought me to my knees as I alternated between trying not to vomit and feeling like I would pass out.

That raw, searing, burning, violent, debilitating sensation eventually moved to a throbbing, but constant, ache.

My finger is still a little tender, and every now and then I am taken off guard at my sensitivity to it. I look at the blackened nail and cringe about what happened.

My little girl was diagnosed with cancer. The pain of this news was excruciating and literally bought me to my knees as I alternated between trying not to vomit, and feeling like I would pass out.

Over time that raw, searing, burning, violent, debilitating, sensation eventually moved to a throbbing, but constant, ache.

My heart is still a little tender, and every now and then I am taken off guard at my sensitivity to it. I look at all my child has been through and cringe about what has happened.

Time may dull the pain of a memory, but it is never forgotten.

What does the pain that cancer has brought into your life feel like?