I wish you could see what I see. My best friend, the friend who ‘knows more than more’, who knows me as I know her. My friend who has always been then for me, and vice versa. Both a little stubborn, though I’ve eased up a little over my cancer diagnosis.
Ever since we met, I admired everything about you. The way you dressed, I always loved your Express wardrobe, pinstripe dress pants with a sleek collared top. There’s something about you that I’m sure you never saw. Do any of us truly realize what’s so special about ourselves?
We knew of each other in high school, but became friends when school was through. I remember you telling me you thought I was a bitch because of the scowl on my face from time to time. But, little did you know all the hurt and pain behind it all, and I’m glad you looked past that, and we became friends, the best of friends.
We’ve been through so much together and still have remained at each other’s side. I’ve been lucky to have the same friends for over 20 years; I’m grateful to have you and all our friends. We get along great, and we’re always there to support, encourage, be honest and help one another out.
You’re beautiful, strong, determined, smart, genuine, caring, honest, lovable, and funny and you come from a terrific family. I admire everything about them too. I wish I had a family like yours; maybe they’re the reason you’re such a good person. They’ve molded you into a stand-up woman, and I know they’re proud because I sure am!
I’ve been dealing with cervical cancer for over three years, and it sucks. You’ve been there since day one, along with your family. Either just checking in, dropping off food, bringing diapers and wipes for Joseph, and anything that was needed you were there to assist. My cancer has been hard on us all; not just me, but my kids, family, friends and especially you. You offered your life if it were possible so I could be with my boys. We’ve cried and hugged so many times saying how unfair this is. But unfortunately, this is my life and my cancer isn’t going anywhere.
Now it’s June 2017 and I’ve tried it all. But none of the treatments are working. I want to live the rest of my life and be happy. My biggest fear was always leaving my boys behind. It hurts like hell. There are days where I wish God would just take me now. The pain of knowing you’re leaving this world without knowing if your kids will be okay is a death sentence itself.
I had my oldest son when I was 20 years old and shortly after I had him, his father and I went our separate ways. I kept Jayden away, for my own reasons to protect him, and I’m sure his father knows that. I know he knows I only want what’s best for Jayden. We still don’t have a relationship, but he knows his son is in good hands. Which brings me back to my best friend, Heather. My family is small, and some aren’t able to care for Jayden for various reasons. He’s a teenager preparing to go into high school, and he wants to be with the friends he knows after I pass.
When I pass, Heather has offered to raise Jayden and be his guardian. Knowing he’ll be with her puts my mind at ease; I know my family will be there to help and support as well. I think Heather and Jayden will make a great team; they’re both stylish, all about their hair, shoes, and snazzy. Maybe one day during one of his football or basketball games, Heather will meet a nice man, who knows? There are plenty of terrific men out there, and I just feel during a sporting event is when she’ll meet her potential next partner, and they’ll grow as a family.
Heather is very special in my eyes; I already know her and what great qualities she has to offer. I know she’ll do right by my son and raise him as I would, if not even better. It’s a lot to take on, there are truly not enough thank you’s or hugs and kisses I can give. But, I promise I’ll be looking down from above trying as hard as I can to guide you both or leave a sign letting you know I’m there.
It takes a big heart to do what she’s doing, but I wouldn’t expect any less from her. You will have my first born one day; he’s very special to me. I know you love him too and that love will continue to grow. All children really need is love and attention, no matter what their age. Never stop hugging them, kissing them, and praising them, this is what they’ll always remember. All the good memories and feelings we leave behind for them to pass down.
Heather, I love you more than you’ll ever know. When I do pass on, think of the fun times we had together, all the silly things we did that drove our parents nuts. Remember that life is short. Live it, be kind, say whatever you want to say, how you’d like it said to you. You’re in control. Look at yourself in the mirror every so often and remind yourself how bad ass you really are. You’ve accomplished a lot and I wish more women could see what you’ve become and how it’s achievable. Never doubt yourself. We have more power within ourselves than we truly realize. Feel it, know it; because I promise you it’s there my friend.
Jillian Scalfani is a young 34-year-old mother with an incurable form of cervical cancer. She and her children have a great support system when it comes to her friend’s and family. Read more about Jillian here.
4 thoughts on “To Heather With Love”
Jillian you are one of the strongest women I know and I hope you get to enjoy every minute you have left with your boys.
Hi Jillian what a beautiful letter I wish I could be there for you. You such a inspiration and I met you we had alot of fun I love you and I know all will be fine as you said in this letter. GOD BLESS XXXX
You met my daughter a few weeks ago at Cervivor School in Del Ray. She speaks so highly of you. Your story has broken our hearts – but your beautiful strength and love for your boys will get them through the hard times to come. Your friend is so special to give you peace of mind and love your son as you would, given the chance.
I wish you peace in your last days and know that your indomitable spirit will live on forever in your children and make you proud as you “watch over them.”
I am currently battling treatment resistant cervical adenocarcinoma. I am doing an alternative med called protocel. I recommend the book “outsmart your cancer”, even if it doesn’t cure you, there is Hope in there, as well as good info! I also see a naturopath, and take a few more natural treatments…I am about to get a scan at the end of august, (2017). Hoping my going rogue against the “palliative chemo” has helped and not hindered me. I am 39 with a 10y/o son-and I too have a bff like you do! I pray things turn around for you. Never give up.