Living Every Day in the Sunshine
April 1st, 2009 by Jane Schneider
T o look at Selene Benitone, you wouldn’t know she’s in a battle for her life. Her soft brown eyes, her dazzling smile, her ebullient spirit belie a gentle grit and determination to live life on her own terms.
With cancer. In spite of cancer.
Selene received a preliminary diagnosis in the fall of 2006, after experiencing vague symptoms earlier that summer. Then just 33, she and her husband Trevor were busy raising a family and moving from base to base with Trevor’s career as an Air Force commander. Cancer didn’t fit into their plans.
Initially, they decided against sharing the news with their young children, Ella, 5, Banks, 6, and Coleman, 14, “because we didn’t want to concern them,” says Selene. Instead, they chose to move back to Memphis from Albuquerque, New Mexico, where Trevor, a Lt. Colonel (Select) with the Air Force, had been stationed. Both graduated from high school here (Briarcrest and Memphis University School respectively) and knew they could count on the support of family and friends in the months ahead.
They got a second opinion from doctors at the West Clinic in Memphis. Then came more thunderous news: Selene had small-cell cancer in her lungs which had metastasized to the brain and spinal cord. She would begin chemotherapy at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. Now her cancer was a secret the couple could no longer keep. First, they told their parents. Then they gathered the children around the dinner table to gently break the news. Banks (then 4) took it hardest. The prospect of her baldness scared him, says Selene, and he began to cry. “It scared him to have a mommy with no hair,” says Selene.
Minutes later, little Ella bounded off and soon returned to the table wearing one of her mother’s wigs. Dancing a crazy jig, her spirit quickly dissolved everyone’s sobs into laughter. Buoyed by her daughter, “I assured the kids that I’d be fine,” says Selene, “that we’d get through this as a family.”
When chemotherapy stole her lustrous hair, Selene mourned the loss, and then let it go, grateful instead to gain precious time with her children. Her friends and family brought home-cooked meals, arranged play dates, and provided comforting conversation, and in return, she made them comfortable with the accouterments of her illness.
Sunday dinners with family quickly became a ritual everyone counted on, even when Selene would come to the table wheeling her IV drip bag behind her. Though willing to talk about the status of her health on occasion, she preferred instead to focus on the daily celebrations of life.
“It’s easy to get tied up with a diagnosis; if you let it, it will consume your life,” she says. “The more outreach, support groups, and open discussion you have with family and friends, the better.”
Selene chooses a path of prayer and positive thinking, aware of what she wants her children to remember of this time in their lives: People’s generosity, family sacrifice, teamwork. She also wrote and self-published her book, Mommy With No Hair, as a way of helping other families with young children cope with cancer. Illustrated by local artist Jeanne Seagle, the story centers on Jack, a 4-year-old struggling to understand his mommy’s illness. The prose explains in simple terms what happens as cancer is discovered and treated, demystifying the process. Her website, jacksbackpack.com, also offers useful information for families.
Of her illness, she says, “It’s taken me to the depths of despair. But it’s also changed my life in ways nothing else could. When you lay down with your kids and don’t know when you’ll be taken from them, it’s a reflection on how to live. To show them not to give up — that can be truly inspiring for everyone.”
Ways to reach out to a family in need
• Ask the family what help they want
• Cook a meal, run an errand, set up a play date
• Don’t let the conversation dwell on illness or crisis
• Live in the moment