My Personal Hero

December 23, 2011
By Nicole_Bender SILVER, Morgantown, Pennsylvania
Nicole_Bender SILVER, Morgantown, Pennsylvania
7 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
I don't want to live my life and learn that I only lived the length of it. I want to live the width of it too.

When you hear hero, what do you think of? Superman? Spiderman? How about Oprah or President Obama? For me, the person is not as well known. And her feats are not as monumental to you as many hero’s are. But that’s why she’s my hero, because I couldn’t, in a million years, fathom the idea of dealing with what she did.

My Aunt Angie is my hero. No she didn’t save a child from a burning building or anything like that, but she did something that just the idea of makes me reach for a tissue. As of today, my aunt is in remission of Ovarian Cancer. The teal bracelet that is always on my left wrist reminds me of this daily.

Throughout her battle, she never gave up, and never blamed the world. She was strong as steel, never shed a tear where I saw, and never gave up. Even in the darkest days, and when it looked almost as if there was no end to the chemo in sight, at least to me, she didn’t falter.

My aunt beat an invisible murderer that claims lives left and right, without stopping, and without a regret. My aunt beat that murderer. She was stronger than it, and not only that, but when I saw her, she managed a smile.

She lost her hair, and bought two wigs. But she rarely wore her wigs. Whenever I saw her, she was bald and proud. What was even better was, no one noticed. When we sat around the table and had small talk, we didn’t mention her hair. I at least didn’t even notice that she was bald until someone else brought it up, typically because we saw the wig laying around.

When all of this started back in March, I was a wreak. I was scared to see my aunt, fearing that I’d see a woman, so sick that it didn’t even look like my aunt anymore. I prayed, I wrote poems, and I cried. But I was so wrong.

My aunt is stronger than I thought was humanly possible. She looked the same as I always remembered (minus the hair, but she still looked as beautiful as ever). All my fears that I had poured out through my prayers, poems, and tears ended up being worse than the real deal.

I’ve never really had a true hero before. I mean I’ve always said I’ve had one, but it was always someone that wasn’t really my hero. Some famous person I plucked out of thin air just to have a name. But it was never true. Now though, I have a hero. I will fight to the ends of the earth and my last breath to prove to everyone that she is my hero, and the strongest, bravest, most courageous woman I have ever met. And she is my personal hero.

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