Tears to the eyes and fullness in the heart -

   Survivor

Maybe it was her smile, her laugh, it was pretty much everything about her. My Aunt Cathy used to dance with me, play my games, watch my movies… Me and her, her and me, we were always together. I loved her so much. She was like my best friend.

          It happened when I was in first grade.

“We’re moving,” my dad had said to me. I was jumping with joy, but I didn’t understand why he had such a melancholy look on his face. “… To Connecticut,” he finished.

 I stopped jumping, and looked at him. I stared hard, because I was disappointed in him, until I realized it wasn’t his fault. I would be leaving my beloved Aunt Cathy behind. Alone. I felt like everything was my fault. Like there was a big chunk of empty space missing from my heart.

Never, I told myself, never will I leave California. But we did. We moved to Connecticut. I had no say in the matter. A couple of years after we left, my Aunt Cathy was diagnosed with breast cancer. My parents didn’t tell me. They didn’t want to worry me. My Aunt C. and I always talked on the computer, through e-mails. That was pretty much the only thing that we could do, and we rarely talked on the phone.

My aunt was treated with chemotherapy, and all of her hair fell out. That really scared me. After six months, she started feeling better, happier. I felt the same way that she did—joyous and excited. She’d made it through. She told me that I was what gave her the strength to get better. She had survived cancer, which is a really neat thing to be able to say.