Tatiana Schlossberg, an environmental journalist and author, and the granddaughter of Jackie and John F. Kennedy, is dying of cancer. She shared her terminal leukemia diagnosis in a moving essay titled “A Battle with My Blood,” published in the New Yorker today.

“When I was diagnosed with leukemia, my first thought was that this couldn’t be happening to me, to my family,” she writes. She recounts how two years ago she was diagnosed with “acute myeloid leukemia, with a rare mutation called Inversion 3” shortly after giving birth to her second child, a daughter. She describes her doctors, and the nurses, and how her sister donated her stem cells. (“My brother was a half-match, but he still asked every doctor if maybe a half-match was better, just in case,” she writes.) And she details the way her husband took care of her and their children: “He is perfect, and I feel so cheated and so sad that I don’t get to keep living the wonderful life I had with this kind, funny, handsome genius I managed to find.”

Throughout the beautifully written piece are unflinching descriptions of what happened to her body during her treatment as she went into remission and then relapsed. She also uses the essay to make her opinion perfectly clear about her cousin, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., and his work as Secretary of Health and Human Services in the Trump administration.

“Meanwhile, during the CAR-T treatment, a method developed over many decades with millions of dollars of government funding, my cousin, Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., was in the process of being nominated and confirmed as the Secretary of Health and Human Services. Throughout my treatment, he had been on the national stage: previously a Democrat, he was running for President as an Independent, but mostly as an embarrassment to me and the rest of my immediate family,” she writes.

“I watched from my hospital bed as Bobby, in the face of logic and common sense, was confirmed for the position, despite never having worked in medicine, public health, or the government.”

Schlossberg pointedly chronicles the ways in which RFK Jr.’s policies will impact—and already are impacting—cancer patients and the state of healthcare for women more broadly. “I worried about funding for leukemia and bone-marrow research at Memorial Sloan Kettering. I worried about the trials that were my only shot at remission. Early in my illness, when I had the postpartum hemorrhage, I was given a dose of misoprostol to help stop the bleeding. This drug is part of medication abortion, which, at Bobby’s urging, is currently ‘under review’ by the Food and Drug Administration.” Her words are perhaps the most charged entry into the ongoing Kennedy family feud, and the most moving.

“For my whole life, I have tried to be good, to be a good student and a good sister and a good daughter, and to protect my mother and never make her upset or angry. Now I have added a new tragedy to her life, to our family’s life, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it,” Schlossberg writes, referencing, of course, the assassination of her grandfather, President Kennedy, who died 63 years ago today, but also the untimely passing of her uncle John F. Kennedy Jr. in a plane crash in 1999, and the death of her grandmother, Jackie, who herself died of cancer, non-Hodgkin Lymphoma, in 1994.

But Schlossberg ends her piece, not looking back at the Kennedy legacy of bright, ambitious citizens gone too soon, a group she will certainly find herself amongst, but instead she turns to today, and to her own children.

“Mostly, I try to live and be with them now. But being in the present is harder than it sounds, so I let the memories come and go. So many of them are from my childhood that I feel as if I’m watching myself and my kids grow up at the same time,” she writes. “Sometimes I trick myself into thinking I’ll remember this forever, I’ll remember this when I’m dead. Obviously, I won’t. But since I don’t know what death is like and there’s no one to tell me what comes after it, I’ll keep pretending. I will keep trying to remember.”