MY ANNIE (2/14/32-4/22/94)

It's been 16 years since I lost my Annie to breast cancer. Of all the women I've known and loved, she was the one I was closest to. The older I get, the more I look like her! She was a hard woman to get close to, but I was one of the joys of her life.

Born on Valentine's day 1932, she was named after her oldest sister who had died as a baby, Anita. Even as a child she was hard to control because of her temper, and disobedient nature. I remember hearing stories about how my grandpa would throw tools at her, and how that made her become a good dodger. She was 34 when I was born, and I became her baby. I lived with her, my mom, and grandparents in a tough east Los Angeles neighborhood. Annie was a gang member when she was young and had a few small tattoos. Anything to shock and piss off my grandparents. When I was a teenager, I told her I wanted to get a small Betty Boop tat, and she told me if I came home with one she'd kick my ass! Later in my twenties, I told her the same thing and she just said that I was a woman now, and could do whatever I wanted, but said it would be for life, and it didn't look good on a lady, and that that was what I was. I'm glad she talked me out of it.

I've never loved any woman as much as I loved Annie. Not even my mom is as close to me as Annie was. When I was a little girl, she tried to get me to call her Auntie, or Nina (because she was my Godmother) but I kept saying "No you are my Annie" and in later years I would say "My Annie, My Annie" and she would reply "My Baby, My Baby". She was the one that got me trough my grandpa's death, and when my best friend Karen was killed, it was her arms I ran to to cry my eyes out. When my cancer relapsed and I was lying in bed in pain, she'd come into my room and stayed up till 2am rubbing my back until I feel asleep, and she had to be up by 6 to go to work!

On the night she passed away, she was drifting in and out of a coma, and then I touched her hand and said "My Annie, My Annie" and for one brief moment she came to and looked at me. But when she slipped back into a coma, my mom and boyfriend had to take me out of the room because I was hysterical with grief. I couldn't be in the room when she flat lined, my poor mom had to go through that alone. For a few years I was very angry with her for leaving me, for never going to the doctor, for just giving up and letting the cancer kill her. Then one day I was reading in my bed, and I got this overwhelming feeling she was next to me. She needed me to forgive her, and she was trying to tell me that she will always be with me, no matter where I go.

I started to cry, and said "My Annie, My Annie" and I swear I heard her say "My Baby, My Baby" and from that moment on, I never felt alone again.