Keep Her in Your Heart for a While

I realize I've used a variation of this title before but I haven't been able to come up with anything more appropriate than this. There are no Elvis Presley or other 1950s songs that convey what I need to say, and no good songs about pie or women named Alice. (Nevermind "Go Ask Alice" or "Alice's Restaurant... they're just not right.)

While I feel my blog is very personal, I rarely get into the specifics of my life. I use a lot of made-up names, and avoid talking about stuff too much. But today is different. My aunt Alice needs good vibes, thoughts, prayers, whatever anyone has to spare.

In the summer, my mom's #2 sister (there are four and my mom is the eldest) Alice, was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer--and it's insidious. It's in four different organs and for more than eight months now they've been treating her with chemotherapy, knowing that surgery would be inevitable and building her up for it.

Her surgery--at long last--is on Tuesday afternoon.

Alice is an amazing woman, as are all the women on my mom's side of the family. She an Uncle Harold have been married for more than 40 years; they married when she was 16. Alice raised two young children when she was a child herself. Theirs is a traditional marriage--the sort you don't see much anymore. Alice is the cook, the housekeeper, the caregiver--the wife. They live on a beautiful farm in Missouri. She is also a breast cancer survivor--nearly 15 years on.

Alice has never said a blue word in her life. She's never taken a single puff of a cigarette, nor has she ever had a drop of alcohol. She loves gardening, 1950s music, garage sales, and carousel horses but her passion is baking, especially for her family. Alice makes pie like no one else in the world. I was lucky that last summer, over July 4th weekend, she taught me how to do it, too--though mine will never be as good as Alice's.

My sister-in-law and I were the attentive students, with Alice scolding us for being too precise in our measurements and worrying too much about getting it just right. She relayed a story about learning to bake pie from "Big Grandma", her paternal grandmother and my great-grandmother. She said that she was trying to chop the apples for the filling uniformly when Big Grandma corrected her, saying that the uneven pieces "are better for chawin', child!"

Our pies were met with rave reviews--even with their canned filling--and that day is a treasured memory. Alice had just started her chemo the week we arrived, and she'd been released from the hospital just the day before. Despite this, she had the energy of a 20 year old, and only stopped once for a nap in the recliner. It was obvious she was tired (the canned pie filling was just one of my tip-offs) but she was quintessential Alice--cooking, baking, cleaning up--and dismissing anyone who tried to make her stop.

This week is frightening for all of us. There are some nodules in Alice's stomach that need to be biopsied, and the doctor has cautioned her that this surgery is not a cure--she is not done yet. But she is fighting and fighting hard, and she has been for months now. If anyone can beat this terrible disease, it's my aunt Alice. But she could use a little push from all of us.