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'LABISI: Chronicles of a Breast Cancer Warrior ♋

CHAPTER 6

Journal entry by Karen Delgado — 6/2/2010

‘Years ago, when I first started teaching middle school, people responded to my new job as if I had accepted the worst possible position.  The truth is, I love teaching this age group!  (I will admit, it wasn't my favorite age group to parent...but working with this age at school is great!)

Unfortunately, what so many people see is what is most noticeable--loud, seemingly rude, young adults who "haven't grown up, yet".  The truth is...they have not grown up!  Although they may look like adults...and will grow into lovely, responsible young adults someday...they still have at least one foot in childhood--no matter how tall they may appear!... Although they may not have learned to handle their new-found deep voices...and their awkwardness may come across as rude... they really can be as sweet as most younger children!!!'
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The eyes are massive windows into the soul. You want to describe someone’s look perfectly? You’d scarcely do justice to that without looking into their eyes. While I lean across the pyre, taking long soulful glances at people as they go about their daily business- the girl with the red and blue pail balanced so effortlessly on her head, strolling down the street and caring less about the leering looks that trail her.
The 3-year-olds, who in the background, continue to chant ‘2 letter words are…’, the welder producing a shrill sound from his work tools a mild distance away.
I’ve had so much time away from work these couple of months, and besides the chemotherapy and radiotherapy, and now, mastectomy which I’ve had to ruminate over endlessly, there is one other thing I’ve had so much time for. My kids.
Being a mother is the one thing I have always appreciated, seen as a gift; more so during these trying times. Talk about the sheer amount of love and concern my 17-year-old son, ChukwuEmeka, has consistently shown, or the warmth which my 12 and 8-year-old daughters; Kachi and Oge, seem to have up their sleeves each time they return from school. If not for anything else, the way they snuggle up to me whenever they have the chance to- this is something I’d live over and over again to witness. I won’t leave them motherless; not even if there’s a slight chance.
And in those moments when I want to faint, to give up, to turn back, or run away from it all- it's them that I see.
Not only do I notice their acts, but I notice their eyes. The girl with the pail balanced upon her head may look nothing like my daughters’ but she reminds me of the need for my kids to lead their lives with so much effortlessless at joyful living. I have so much which I still need to impart into them, and although they might get burnt while trying to act like the ‘adults’ which they are yet to become, I want to be here every step of the way. Warring with them, crying- if need be, with them. Laughing with them!
This is why I still choose to remain in this fight.
I am ‘Labisi, and I’m still fighting!

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