In 1993, the family lost both Dan and Paula. Daisy moved in with Della and Perry. The decision was made because Daisy hadn't spent any time with Della until the woman was in her mid-thirties. No one was surprised that Paula had passed a year after her husband. She tried to move forward, but she missed him too much. Paula was ninety-six. Dan was ninety-five when he died. In 1995, Ken and Natalie married. Ken also adopted Ella. In 1997, they lost Daisy at the age of ninety-eight. Then, in January, Annette Burger died from sepsis.

Della got off the phone one day and was frozen in place. Perry walked into the kitchen and noticed his wife standing there in shock. "What's going on?"

"I can't believe it," Della said as tears fell down her face.

Perry walked over to his wife. He placed his hands on her upper arms and crouched a bit to look her in the eye, "hey, what's wrong?"

"It's back," Della said through tears.

"What stage?"

"One, but more advanced."

"Treatment?"

"Chemo," Della said as she broke down. "I'm so scared," she said as Perry held her tightly.

"It's okay to be scared. Everything will be okay. I'll be right here beside you the entire time. You know, I think it's time to retire too. Once you're in remission again, I plan on taking you for a vacation all over the world."

Perry and Della had gone to her doctor to plan out her treatment. The doctor had brought up a mastectomy after her treatment, but Della quickly rejected it. After the appointment, they told all of their children and the grandchildren who were old enough to understand. That night, Perry decided to bring up the mastectomy to Della when she climbed into bed. "I think you should have the mastectomy."

Della looked at her husband in shock, "why?"

"Because it could lessen your chances of a reoccurrence."

"I've had it twice and each time it was caught early."

"Please," Perry said, "at least consider it."

"You sure you want me to? I mean, I'll look different."

"I don't care," Perry said, "if it keeps you well and right here with me, I don't care."

"Okay," Della said softly, "I'll think about it."

Della's first treatment was rough. Paul and Maureen were still living there with their family, so there were enough people to help Perry out so he didn't wear himself out. Faith was now seventeen, Grace was sixteen, Hope was eleven, and Angel was ten. About a month into Della's treatment, she'd lost a great deal of weight and strength. Faith walked out of the kitchen to where her grandmother was on the couch. "Grandma, mom wants to know if you think you can eat anything."

Della grimaced at the thought of food, "no."

Grace came downstairs from her room. The two teens gave each other a knowing look. Faith returned to the kitchen and Grace sat by Della. Maureen walked into the living room, "Gracie, it's time for lunch."

"Okay, mom," she said, "I'll be right there."

Maureen walked over to the couch, "go on," she said gently knowing why her daughter was hesitant to get up. Maureen took her daughter's seat once the girl went to the kitchen. She placed an arm around her mother. It wasn't long before Della fell asleep and her head fell onto her daughter's shoulder. Paul had taken Perry out for the day to give him a break. They returned shortly before dinner.

"How long has she been asleep?" Perry asked.

"Since lunch," Maureen answered.

"Wait, did you have lunch?" Paul asked.

"The girls brought me something to eat in here. I didn't want to wake her. Besides, I think she likes it when someone is holding her while she sleeps."

"Paul and I will go work on dinner," Perry said.

Della started to wake up, "what time is it?"

"Almost dinner time," Maureen said. She helped her mother sit up.

"Have you been sitting here the entire time?"

"I didn't want to wake you up. Don't worry, the girls brought me lunch."

"I'm so tired of being tired."

Paul walked into the living room and looked at his wife, "babe, why don't you take a break? I'll sit out here."

Maureen and Paul switched places, "you'd better not sit there. If I fall asleep, you'll be stuck."

"Nah, I'll just wake you up," he smiled. Paul took her hand, "how are you holding up?"

"I can't remember a time when I felt worse and that's saying something." Della looked at Paul, "thank you for taking Perry out."

"No problem," Paul said, "we all know how devoted he is to you. If he doesn't get a break once in a while, he'll end up in the hospital."

"If you and Maureen need to leave with the girls for a while, we'll understand. I know this is a lot for them."

"They're the ones who asked to stay."

"They're good kids."

"Oh, if you only knew."

Della smiled, "I did raise your wife."

"And you still don't know the half of it."

"And I don't want to."

That night, Perry held his wife as she slept. He was often afraid to fall asleep. He was worried that if he did, she'd slip away from him. During the night, Della woke up her husband as she rushed to the bathroom. He sat on the floor and rubbed her back until she was done. Then, he sat against the wall and held her until she was ready to move.

Della was now two months into her treatment. "Perry, I've decided to have the mastectomy."

"Good," he said, "I'll call and make the appointment. What changed your mind?"

"I never want to have to do this again."

"I hope you never have to."

As time went by, Della spent more time in bed. Her children and grandchildren often dropped by to spend time with her to try and keep her spirits up. The men in the family would take Perry out from time to time to give him a reprieve. Their wives would go stay with Della while he was out. It was hard for them to see her deteriorate, but they knew it had to get worse before it got better. That's just a fact of the treatment.

Della completed her treatment after six months and was once again in remission. The following month, was her double mastectomy. She was still going to need help because she was still very weak. Plus, she wouldn't be able to do much with her arms and upper body for a while. The first time Perry went to change her bandages, Della turned and started to cry. She tried to push her husband away. "Darling, I have to change these, or you could get an infection."

"No," Della cried out, "I don't want you to see me."

"I've already seen the area. I saw it in the hospital when the nurses would change your dressing."

"I didn't know then, now I do."

"Is there someone else you'd be more comfortable with?"

"No one in this family."

"Della, I love you and no matter what, I will always love you. Nothing will ever change that or my attraction to you."

Della reluctantly allowed her husband to change the bandages, but she silently cried the entire time.

While it was hard for Della to allow her husband to change her bandages, allowing her sons was even harder. There were times when they'd be staying with her while the others took a break and they'd have to change them. Nicky, Max, and Vince did their best to keep their faces neutral the entire time. Her sons-in-law would help their wives change the dressing as well. All gained a whole new respect for Della. They hadn't seen how her bones were practically poking out from losing all that weight. They hadn't seen the scars from her surgery. They also hadn't seen the scars from the past. Each scar represented something Della had survived. Something she had fought like hell to overcome. While they knew all of that, seeing it was completely different.