RIP Delia Pesante Brown

across the lake
Originally uploaded by placeinsun.

My cousin, Delia, died today. She was 44 years old. Colon cancer. I found out she died this morning but I went through the day as if nothing happened. I kept working. I kept smiling. I kept on keeping on. I imagined that's what she would have wanted me to do. I also think if I stopped to think about it, I would have fallen apart.

We knew this day would come and it was keeping me up at night. If I did sleep, I would wake up in such a state of depression thinking about when it would happen. Saddened because though we didn't want to see her go, she was in a tremendous amount of pain. She'd been battling cancer for about 3 years but each time we thought she wouldn't make it, she'd bounce right back. She was a fighter but not a fighter in the sense people would imagine. She was fighting to live because no one loved life more than Delia.

I don't remember her so much as a child growing up. We weren't particularly close even now but she was someone who I might not speak to for months, pick up the phone and it's like we spoke yesterday. One time I was meeting with a client in the building where she did security. I had no idea she worked there and we were so happy to see each another. When my meeting was over, she took me all around the building to show off her "smart and beautiful cousin." She was so proud of me and wanted everyone to know. I can hear her now, in that raspy voice of hers dripping with that Bronx Latina accent, "This is my cousin, Lisa. Isn't she beautiful?" Never waiting for a response, she'd go on to rattle off all of my accomplishments to anyone who'd listen. This was before she got sick. She was so full of life and energy then.

As time passed by, she got sicker and began to lose weight and her beautiful jet black hair but she never lost her spirit. She'd never complain. You'd ask her how she was doing and she'd say "Me? I'm great! How 'bout you? You alright? You need anything?" It was never about her. She was always thinking about what someone else needed; about what she could do for you.

I also recall her driving my mom to an event that was taking place to celebrate my transition into my new role. Big deal, right? Except, she was really sick that day but had stopped by to visit my mom and grandma. When she found out my mom's ride had flaked, she said she would take her. It was the evening rush hour but she got my mom there. She wouldn't enter the room because she felt she wasn't dressed appropriately (and I hate to admit, I was conscious of what my colleagues would think. I truly regret feeling that way) and just wanted to see my face, give me a kiss and leave. I stepped out into the hallway and she said "That's all I wanted. To get your mom here, see you and tell you I love you."

This past summer she called to ask me to go with her to the street festival en el Barrio (the festival that takes place the day before the Puerto Rican Day Parade). I wanted to go but it was really hot that day and I was still trying to unpack boxes from my recent move. I didn't go and I wish I would have just to spend that precious time with her that I realize now I took for granted.

After this summer, her cancer spread. The doctors said chemotherapy could no longer help.

The final days of her life were spent in hospice at Calvary in the Bronx. We knew once she was admitted to hospice that she would not bounce back like all of the other times. This time she would go home.... permanently.

When I saw her during those final days, I couldn't believe my eyes. Her illness was truly eating her alive. She was half her normal size, her bones jutting out from everywhere, eyes bulging out of her skull. Legs and feet so swollen that she needed help to walk. When they drained the fluid from her legs, it filled 3 large jugs. I hated to see her like that. It was so frightening but what really amazed me was that she was still Delia. Her spirit was still there. She tried to sit up when we arrived and wanted kisses and hugs. When the nurse came in the room she introduced us all as her beautiful cousins. She even hugged the nurse for taking care of her so well that day.

I held her hand and she told me how proud she was of me, how strong she thought I was and told Samaiyah to always listen to me and make me proud. She had words of love and wisdom for everyone that night. That was the last time she would speak in full, coherent sentences. After that, she would only say one or two words or moan until finally, she could no longer speak. It took too much of the little bit of energy she had left.

Delia never got married and never had children. She had a love once but that didn't work out. She lived with her mom, grandmother, brother, his wife and her 8 year old nephew (who she took to karate every week until she just couldn't anymore). She was all things to everyone. She told my aunt over the summer that all she ever wanted was to be loved. I hope she knows how much she was loved by so many people. Though the love she was speaking of, I am guessing she never did receive.

Though I will miss her laugh, her energy and her positive spirit, I am glad she is no longer in pain and finally at peace.

RIP, Delia Pesante Brown, 10.13.05