Chapter 1: The Text That Shook Me

There are certain things that should never be communicated through text messages. Have we become so desensitized that we fail to recognize appropriate communication methods? This question struck me after receiving disappointing news via text for the second time this year from the same individual, which has increasingly become a personal annoyance.

Two weeks ago, I found myself feeling down for no clear reason. I attributed it to our family's decision to forgo a trip to Los Angeles to join our extended family for Christmas. With our eldest son unable to join us as planned, a cozy holiday at home seemed the only option.

I often try to trace the thoughts that lead me to feel this way; it helps me discern between choosing to be miserable or allowing outside circumstances to bring me down. This way, I can seek solutions rather than spiral into a cycle of negativity.

However, something was bothering me—my intuition was on high alert. If I were a dog, my ears would be perked up.

My closest cousin and I share a peculiar connection. Whenever I think about her and reach out, she often responds with, "I was just talking about you!" or "I was about to call you." This has happened countless times since we grew up together at my grandmother's house, making her feel more like an older sister.

But I digress.

We had been discussing our inherited land in South Carolina—six acres each passed down from our grandmother through our respective parents. Recently, someone had placed a mobile home on her land without her consent.

After receiving a tax bill for this mobile home, which we had no idea existed, we were both baffled. For the past three months, we had played amateur detectives.

Finally, my cousin gathered enough information from Laurens County. After paying a filing fee to initiate police action against the trespasser, we discovered the owner was a distant cousin we had never met. Most of my maternal grandmother's family stayed in the South, leaving her northern relatives in Philadelphia unaware of her descendants—all six of her siblings had passed away, and their children remained on the ancestral land. Except for this wayward cousin, who had placed his mobile home on the wrong six acres.

Legal proceedings mandated that the individual vacate the property within five days; failure to do so would lead to my cousin automatically obtaining ownership after twenty days, as she had paid the taxes to avoid further complications.

She decided to drop the charges and try to negotiate with our newfound relative regarding future payments. He had the choice to either move off the property or remain, paying rent and back taxes. The last time we spoke, she mentioned she would call him to discuss his intentions.

Weeks went by without any word from her. It struck me as unusual, but with the holidays approaching, I assumed she was just busy like everyone else. A simple text asking about her communication efforts with our distant relative turned ominous.

I wrote: "Assuming he hasn't called you back?"

Her reply, however, hit me like a ton of bricks: "Hi love, I didn’t call. I have sad news — I have cancer." What?!

The shock reverberated through me—receiving such devastating news via text felt completely inappropriate. I called her immediately, my first words being, “Why would you text me something like that?” I knew it sounded accusatory, but I couldn’t conceal my distress.

She hesitated, sensing my concern, and I was taken aback by her calm demeanor, as she had been living with this diagnosis while I was just now learning of it.

"I found a lump in my breast a couple of weeks ago," she explained. "I went to the doctor right away. The tests came back positive for cancer."

"Wait, didn't you have a biopsy a few years ago after they found a small mass during a mammogram? Didn’t both doctors say it was just fat?"

"Yes."

"They left a marker in your breast, right? Is that where the lump is?"

"Yes, but I’m getting a second opinion. They said I’m at stage two. I have a consultation on Wednesday to discuss my options."

"I’m just going to tell them to take my breast—a full mastectomy."

"I think you might be jumping the gun; let’s wait to hear what they say first."

The second opinion revealed she was actually at stage one, and the lump was small enough that a lumpectomy followed by a week of radiation would suffice, though she would need medication for the next decade.

She shared how her son and sisters reacted to her news—they all broke down in tears. I didn’t see it as a death sentence; I know several people who have survived breast cancer using various treatment methods.

I suggested this could be an excellent time for her to explore holistic health—considering how her daily habits affect her well-being. In Dr. Lorraine Day’s book, "What Does it Take to Get Well?" she states that all illnesses stem from how we live, think, act, eat, and cope with stress.

It’s not my place to dictate how anyone should approach their cancer treatment; that's a deeply personal choice. However, I believe we all need to become our own advocates for health.

Before we ended our call, we were both in good spirits—neither of us feeling down or anticipating the worst. We looked ahead with hope, promising to keep each other updated on health improvements and nutritional choices.

In my view, there are two main reasons someone might choose to share bad news via text. Both stem from fear and reflect only one person's needs: a lack of courage or faith.

They may lack the bravery to discuss such sensitive topics in person or over the phone. This choice diminishes the recipient's chance to process and react naturally to the news. When we care about someone, we should aim to share our feelings authentically, especially when the news is challenging.

Alternatively, they may lack faith in the recipient’s ability to handle the news. Where’s the trust in the relationship? Shouldn’t we consider that the person on the other end might offer the support needed instead of assuming they’ll crumble? We never know how someone will respond without hearing or seeing them react. We should embrace their response with grace rather than fear.

Moral of the story:

While the convenience of quick messages is appealing, we often overlook the boundaries of what is appropriate to communicate. We must be mindful of our words and the messages we send in the digital space, ensuring that technology does not compromise our common sense.

If you're interested in learning more about the land we discussed, check out:

The Legacy of a Black Land Owner Is Only As Good As His or Her Vision for the Land’s Future

A deed is just a piece of paper

Chapter 2: The Importance of Thoughtful Communication

In this video, "How to Give Bad News to Your Client, Sponsor, or Boss," explore effective strategies for delivering difficult news in a compassionate manner.

The video "How to Tell Your Client Bad News" offers insights on managing tough conversations with clients, ensuring that respect and empathy remain central.

Please share your thoughts on this topic in the comments section. I would love to hear from you!