Joyce McCants at a graduation party in Mobile. Ala. McCants was diagnosed with breast cancer almost three years ago.

This October, I’m thinking about something else besides Halloween.

My aunt Joyce was diagnosed with breast cancer almost three years ago. Until that point, I had never known anyone with cancer. I guess it really does affect everyone.

With all the bad experiences I’ve had in life so far, everything has always worked itself out for the better, so, naturally, I thought this cancer scare was nothing to worry about and she would be fine. Unfortunately, everything has not been fine. The cancer moved into her lymph nodes and now they’re finding traces of it in her brain.

Maybe it’s my own selfishness, or maybe even my sub-conscience, but I still pretend like everything is fine. I don’t call her as much as I used to, I’ve only been home once in the past year to see the family. I just can’t fathom losing her.  I’ve never known anyone to die–I’ve never even been to a funeral. In all honesty, I don’t know exactly what health state Joyce is in right now.

She’s basically a second mother to me. I spent the majority of my childhood with this lady and now she can barely talk some days. She is basically my other half.

When I needed money and my mother wouldn’t give it to me, Joyce got it. I used to work for her when I was in middle and high school, and on the way home, we would listen to the Delilah show on 99.9, Mobile’s “lite mix” station. Delilah would always play ‘Shining Star’ by The Manhattans, so we designated that as our theme song, which it has been for at least the past eight years.

Joyce was the one person who I could never say ‘no’ to. When I acted up at home, my mother’s threat was, “I’m going to call Joyce.”  Basically, what I’m trying to say is that I love her more than anything and the sight of her losing weight at such an alarming rate and having her fingernails fall off and not be able to walk gives me an indescribable feeling of sorrow. And anyone who knows me can tell you I’m not an emotional person at all, but I sob just thinking about it. I mean, I’ve always wanted to the ability to cry on cue, I just didn’t know it would come this way.

I’ve always been an advocate for HIV/AIDS, and I never understood why everyone was always so gung-ho for cancer awareness and not the AIDS cause. But, now I understand. Cancer does not discriminate and could get anyone at anytime. It’s a truly horrible thing to have. The best thing to do is to have faith and a sense of humor about it all. My Joyce has both. So I hope she will be fine. As I said, everything always works itself out.

The saying is that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone. And I know I have my precious aunt here with me right now and I refuse to continue to let any more time go by without being there for her like I know she would for me. This is a lady who used to sacrifice her own well being for family.

I don’t usually throw the “L” word around—I don’t even like the T.V. show-but I love you Joyce.