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As we step into Breast Cancer Awareness Month, I am once again reminded of a journey that is both deeply personal and universal to so many families. It’s a journey colored by love, loss, and the often-overlooked importance of both early detection and the enduring process of grief.
For me, this journey began on October 5, 1999, when I was just 12 years old and lost my mother, Estela Rodriguez, to breast cancer. Her death has left a mark on my heart that I carry with me to this day, a constant reminder of the importance of awareness, early screening, and mental health support for those affected by this devastating disease.
Watching someone you love battle breast cancer is an experience that changes you. My mother fought with immense strength and grace, but she, like many others, waited too long to seek help. The progression of the disease, which eventually claimed her life, was swift and ruthless. The helplessness I felt, witnessing her decline, is a pain I can’t fully describe. It's a pain that no one should ever have to experience, but unfortunately, far too many do. My mother’s memory drives my commitment to raising awareness about early detection and preventive care because I have seen firsthand what happens when those measures aren’t taken seriously.
Breast cancer is often viewed through the lens of physical health — and while that is undeniably crucial, the emotional and mental toll of this disease is equally significant. The diagnosis itself is terrifying, and the ripple effects it creates for loved ones are profound. In the years since my mother passed, I’ve come to realize how important it is to acknowledge that grief is not just an emotional reaction; it’s an ongoing process that can affect people in vastly different ways. Grief doesn’t have a set timeline or an endpoint. It doesn’t “get better” in the way many people might expect — instead, over time, you learn to cope, but it remains a part of you.
When we talk about grief, we often frame it in terms of "healing" or "moving on." But for those of us who have experienced significant loss, the reality is more complicated. Time may dull the sharpness of the pain, but the loss itself never fully leaves you. It changes you. For me, losing my mother at such a young age meant grappling with feelings of loneliness, confusion, and, at times, even anger. Why did this happen to her? To us? Those questions still linger, and while I’ve come to terms with the loss, I’ve also learned that grief is a lifelong companion. Some days, it’s a dull ache; other days, it feels as raw as the moment I said goodbye.
For many who are left behind after the loss of a loved one to cancer, grief can be isolating. People expect it to follow a linear path, but it often comes in waves, sometimes triggered by seemingly insignificant moments. A song, a smell, a date on the calendar — any of these can bring back a flood of memories and emotions. It’s crucial that we normalize these experiences and acknowledge that there is no “right” way to grieve. Each person’s journey is unique, and while some may find comfort in community or faith, others may struggle silently, unsure of how to navigate life without their loved one.
That’s why mental health support is so critical, not only for those diagnosed with cancer but also for their families and friends. When my mother was sick, I was too young to fully understand what was happening. But as I’ve grown older, I’ve come to appreciate the importance of having a support system — whether through friends, family, or professional help — to process the complex emotions that accompany both a cancer diagnosis and the subsequent loss of a loved one. Seeking help is not a sign of weakness; it’s a testament to our strength and our desire to continue living fully, even in the face of profound loss.
This October, as we raise awareness about breast cancer, I encourage everyone not only to advocate for regular breast exams and early detection but also to check in on their mental well-being and the emotional health of those around them. Breast cancer affects more than just the body — it changes lives, families, and communities. And when we lose someone to this disease, the grieving process can be long and difficult, but it’s a journey that we don’t have to walk alone.
Together, let’s continue to share stories of strength, hope, and resilience. Let’s honor the memory of those we’ve lost, support those who are still fighting, and remind ourselves that it’s okay to grieve in our own way. By supporting each other, we can navigate the complexities of both cancer and grief, knowing that even though the pain may not go away, we can still find ways to cope and live meaningfully in spite of it.
With gratitude and hope,
Humberto Rodriguez