January 5th is an important day in
my family. We visit the cemetery, attend
a mass said in Rebecca’s name, and look through old family photos. We watch the home videos of Rebecca singing
Disney songs, especially the one of her rendition of “Reflection” from
Mulan. Sometimes we watch the slideshow
Rebecca’s old second grade class made for her to the song “Thank You For Being
a Friend”.
That’s what my little sister was to me – a
friend. Rebecca was a friend to
everyone, really. She never said
anything bad about anyone, no matter how sick she got and how much pain she was
in. Her smile was bright and infectious
and it rarely left her face. Rebecca’s
laughter possessed special powers to bring hope even in the darkest, saddest
circumstances.
Rebecca’s magical laughter came in handy
almost daily beginning in May 2004.
After two months of listening to her cry in pain, doctors had finally
found the cause of her stomach problems.
At five years old, Rebecca had a very large brain tumor. She went into surgery a few days later, and
we learned that the tumor was a very deadly cancer. She probably would not live more than two
years because treatments for her disease were so limited.
Rebecca taught me what hope is. Her treatments made her weak, and she was in
pain everyday. The next fall she was in
first grade but she was not able to go very much. Despite everything she was going through,
Rebecca never gave up. She was the
strongest person I’ve ever known, determined to beat her disease no matter how
many treatments she had to endure. Hope,
to her, wasn’t merely believing or praying that something would happen, but acting
like it would. She pretended she wasn’t
even sick! She would try to run after
our little brother until someone reminded her she wasn’t supposed to. She would get up and make herself some food
when she was supposed to be resting on the couch. My mom even had this game to make sure the
medicines weren’t affecting her ability to spell: she would spell some
moderately bad word and say, “what does that spell, Rebecca?” Rebecca always refused to say the word out
loud, but her giggles let us know she knew exactly what it meant. Whatever it was, Rebecca wanted to do it no
matter how sick she got. She wanted to
go to Disney World, so we did. And she
wanted to go to the beach, so we did.
Rebecca knew she had limited time and she was not going to spend it
acting like she was sick.
Several times during the year and a half she
fought her disease, her doctors told us she had only two months left. Twice Rebecca proved them wrong, but in
November 2005 it was clear that their predictions were right that time. We went to Disney World, her favorite place,
one more time in December. The holidays
were painful; she couldn’t open her presents or play with anything. Rebecca woke up from naps talking about
angels and playing in Hawaii. On January
5th, 2006 Rebecca passed away, leaving behind our three brothers and
me. Her suffering had ended, but our
baby sister had been taken from us at only seven years old. Rebecca always cared about others more than
herself. She never complained or acted
like a victim. She simply fought however
she could. My family tried to fight back
like she did, supporting the Childhood Brain Tumor Foundation and collecting
toys for other cancer patients at Children’s Hospital in D.C.
The first time I was away from my family and
my community who had known Rebecca so well was when I got to UVA. It’s hard to keep someone in your memory
surrounded by people who don’t know her, but Relay for Life has made it much
easier. I found Relay last spring and
joined the recruitment committee this year.
Working towards fundraising goals makes me feel like I’m fighting
back. Rebecca battled her disease with
only experimental drugs available to her, but that shouldn’t be the case. The American Cancer society provides hundreds
of millions of dollars a year in grants for cancer research, and it’s
comforting to know that significant portions of that go directly to childhood
cancers and brain cancers.
Almost everyone’s life has been affected by
cancer. Sometimes our loved ones’ fights
are successful and sometimes they aren’t, but we can all help by fighting with
them. Joining Relay for Life means
joining the 4 million people who fight cancer together by fundraising money for
cancer research. It’s a community, and
everyone has a reason why they Relay.
For me, that reason is Rebecca. She was my best friend and the most selfless
person I’ve ever known. Rebecca believed
in hope, and passed that hope on to our family everyday. Now that I have the power to help others
finish their fights, I can’t pass up that opportunity. Relay for Life is for hope, and I know
Rebecca would be for Relay for Life.
With RelayLove,
Sarah Hatef
Recruitment Committee
