Pink

Cancer has touched most people in some way.

My world turned pink on October 1, 2012.  The previous two years my maternal and paternal grandmothers had both been diagnosed with breast cancer.  My maternal grandmother was enduring it for the second time. It's incredible the conversations you can have when you have a deep, secret connection.  

Cancer reminds you of your mortality and your life.  Cancer tries to steal.  It steals your day, your thoughts, your plans, your energy.  My diagnosis was all consuming.  I like calling it "my diagnosis" because it reminds me that it came and went.  I am cancer free today, but the season while it was upon me was like carrying a too heavy pack up a mountain.  

I stood tall and kept walking during that time, until I was alone. It was during the aloneness that I would breath and rest.  

Now, I remember.  I remember what it felt like, I remember the heaviness of the days, I remember the weariness.  I remember that even after the treatment was over I expected to begin feeling better, but I didn't. I couldn't figure out why.  I later learned that the chemicals in my body had changed.  

It has taken some work, but I don't have to fight those anymore.  Pink means a lot to me.  Pink reminds me of that journey, pink reminds me of that victory.  

I wear and enjoy pink proudly to celebrate my journey.  It has become a secret code to me.  I see pink and have a little celebration and know that I can have victory over anything.