Having an email address at the end of these columns gives me ten times the feed back from readers than that which comes by snail mail. Granted, it is easier to hit the reply button on the computer than to find some paper, an envelope and pay that thirty-three cents in postage. As much as I like email, I enjoy folksy letters and cards even more. It amazes me that total strangers write me their stories of dealing with cancer. Most of these are written by caregivers and not the cancer patients themselves.

It would be a toss-up as to which is the most difficult, being the patient or being the caretaker. My only sister, Sunnie Anne who lives in Tennessee, was my mother's primary caregiver before she died last Thanksgiving. Sunnie Anne was the fifth and last child. She was born the same spring I graduated from high school.

Sunnie Anne was a bouncy blond, the high-achiever who matched her name in every way. Sunnie assisted my mother as she cared for our father until his death from cancer in 1982. Then Sunnie Anne graduated from college and was no longer the adored baby of the family. Roles reversed and she became the caregiving adult.

Our mother was chronically ill with serious lung and heart problems for several years. Losing our mother would be hard on my three brothers and me, but we all worried how my sister would cope when the end came. My mother was Sunnie's life. Sunnie was my mother's life. As a family we were all close. Yet the rest of us married and made our own lives with spouses and children.

It fell Sunnie Anne's lot to be my mother's caregiver. It wouldn't have mattered that any of the children would have taken our mother to live with us. Sunnie Anne claimed her 100% willingly. She could have married a fine, professional young man we all liked. But she wouldn't. He got tired of waiting on my mother's demise and eventually married someone else. Nobody blames him, not even Sunnie.

My mother was the old-time Mama of another era. She never worked a day outside of the home. She cooked from scratch and sewed beautifully. Her family was her life. Period.

Mama never ever slept a single night alone. During the many times she was hospitalized, one of the children took turns staying in the hospital room night and day when Sunnie Anne worked. The doctor called us the "bucket brigade." For most of the other hours, week-ends and holidays, Sunnie Anne took over. During the last three years of my mother's illness, Sunnie used every day of her vacation time from work to care for my mother. Her finances dwindled as she sacrificed to see that my mother had all she needed. Mama's medicine alone cost hundreds of dollars each month and her meager Social Security barely covered her insurance. We all helped as we could, but my sister's contribution of time and resources far exceeded our's in proportion.

Now that my mother is gone, my sister is slowly coping the best she can. It has been difficult. We are grateful my mother's suffering is over, but my brothers and I wish for some happiness now for Sunnie Anne.

When my sister became aware of my recurrence of cancer and the apparent terminality of it, she instinctively started to be a long-distance caregiver. Although we are nearly 500 miles apart, Sunnie got my doctor's phone number and the hospice number. She made a list of my medicines and a schedule. She wanted the names of each of my hospice nurses. When I realized what was happening, I put my foot down.

Of course, I already have Buddy who is a good caregiver himself. But even if I didn't, I couldn't let her take that role with me. She deserves a life without such burdens. I would put myself in an institution rather than deny her the chance of a life for herself now.

I feel the best part of Sunnie's life has been spent, well-spent, but spent. She is thirty-seven, attractive, intelligent, honest, sensitive, spiritual and would make a wonderful wife and mother. I know there will be heavenly rewards for the loving care she gave my mother, but I want her to have some joy here and now. Our mother's caregiver needs a caregiver. If you are looking for a special, unselfish person, you can contact me by email or snail mail and I will put you through the third degree to see if you are deserving of an introduction. Her three older brothers would have to O.K. you too, so only the best need apply.