Aubynette “Auby” Rolle has spent her career in healthcare, first as a nurse and later as a healthcare executive. But when her only daughter, LaShae, was diagnosed with breast cancer at just 26, no amount of professional experience could prepare her to watch her child become the patient. Still healing from knee surgery herself, Auby set aside her own recovery to be there for LaShae as she underwent a mastectomy, chemotherapy, and radiation.
Yet even as LaShae faced the fight of her life, she was still thinking about Auby. Shortly after her diagnosis, she asked her mother to promise that she would prioritize her own health so she would be strong enough to face whatever the future might bring — a promise Auby took to heart. Meanwhile, she watched LaShae continue pursuing a Ph.D. through treatment, using her experience as a patient to further the work she’d already devoted her life to: helping young people prevent, detect, and survive cancer. Grounded in their shared faith, they found ways to carry each other through a chapter neither could have imagined.
Here, Auby tells her only daughter what it was like to watch her endure the unthinkable — and why the strength LaShae showed changed her life, too.
To my one and only LaShae,
There are moments when a mother’s heart feels more than words can carry, and this is one of them. I write through tears of gratitude, with a heart full of faith, a spirit humbled by grace, and an unending love for you.
At 26, in the middle of your PhD, after caring for me following my injury, you suddenly found our roles reversed. No degree, no professional experience, and no years in healthcare could have prepared me to hear, “Yep, the results showed that it’s malignant. I have cancer.”
I was not the healthcare executive. I was not the leader. I was simply your mom, a mother wishing she could take away her child’s pain.
I will never forget that day or the fear that rose within me. Yet somehow, you were the one trying to steady me.
Even after receiving that diagnosis, you were thinking about me. You looked at me and said, “Mummy, if cancer ever happens to you, or if any disease ever happens, I want you to be strong enough to fight it. Promise me that you will lose weight. Obesity alone causes seven different cancers.”
I listened, and because of you, I made a promise. I pushed myself, lost more than 100 pounds, and became stronger and healthier.
You taught me something I will never forget. “Sometimes, the person walking through the storm is still the one holding the umbrella over someone else.” That is who you are.
I have watched you face uncertainty without surrendering hope. I watched you continue your PhD through chemotherapy, continue your work, continue to advocate, and continue living with purpose when you had every reason to ask, “Why me?”
Instead, you asked, “How can my story help somebody else?”
You opened your life to others—the victories and the difficult days, the fear, tears, waiting, vulnerability, exhaustion, and hope. You chose honesty when hiding would have been easier. Through your story, you have encouraged young people to listen to their bodies, advocate for themselves, ask questions, seek answers, and find out early.
You took something painful and used it to protect others. And LaShae, I could not be prouder of you.
There were nights I cried, wishing I could take the cancer from you and carry it myself. I would have traded places with you in an instant. I wanted you to know that you were never alone.
Today, my tears are often tears of peace. Not because I have forgotten, but because I have learned to trust God more deeply. Faith does not mean we never feel afraid; it means we refuse to let fear have the final word.
You are not a cancer survivor. You are a future scientist, researcher, advocate, teacher, and light. I believe you will make a great contribution to cancer research and help people live healthier lives through prevention, early detection, exercise, nutrition, and hope.
Cancer may be part of your story, but it will never be the author of your life. You are the author.
My one and only daughter, my precious gift from God, remember this: I will stand beside you. I will pray for and with you. I will fight for you. I will celebrate every victory and hold you through every chapter.
Through every season. Through every fear. Through every triumph.
Your mom will always be here for you.
Love you always,
Mummy, and sometimes, with permission, your AUBY.
