My fight is personal...

I am over the top on things that I truly believe in. I get that. My heart is big, and when I love, I love with everything that I am. I can say the same about anything that I believe in. With that being said, one of those things, is breast cancer awareness month. To be honest, I really don't just think about breast cancer and its effects on others, in October. I think about it all year. It is now, a part of me. We all know someone who has been affected by this. If you think hard, you probably know way more than one. It is nasty, and it is inevitable. My fight is personal.

In 2001, my mom was diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer. There was no history in our family, on either side. To this day, I can still remember, very vividly, everything about that experience. From the moment she and my dad sat my sister and I down to tell us, all the way through to the very end, when we were told that she was in remission. Vividly.

It was July. I was 21, and Emmy was in high school. Our parents requested we all sit down together for dinner that night. At this time in our lives, we were all going in different directions, and this was a rarity. So, at dinner, my dad starts the conversation with "your mom and I have something we need to tell you". At this point in time, they had been married 23 years, so I rolled my eyes, and Emmy and I simultaneously blurted out "great, y'all are getting a divorce". I could see the look in my mom's eyes, almost as if that announcement would have been easier to swallow. For her. For us. And then, those words came. My world went silent. I remember flooding them with questions. And I remember the deafening silence that came from Emmy. That silence from her, lasted for most of the next year. I took on the "I'm strong. I can carry everybody on my shoulders through this" role. And I did, in front of everyone. But it was during those silent times, when I was alone, that I realized that I really wasn't the "tough" girl, I had always portrayed. My mom fought, and fought hard. She never wavered. And, my dad was by her side the whole time. I watched how hard it was on him, but it was at that time, that I truly understood the depth of his love for her. The exact moment, was when mom's hair started to fall out, and it was uncomfortable. And, they went out into the garage. Just the two of them. My dad shaved her head. The woman who he had vowed his love to. The one he had made a family with. His high school sweetheart. This was a true example of love.

The fight for me, had gotten personal, way before that July. Emmy and I had two friends growing up. Sisters. Who we were in the process of watching go through this same thing, with their mom. We had watched them go from highs to lows. And, shortly after mom had been diagnosed, we witnessed the lowest of the lows. We watched as their world crashed down, because their mom had fought the fight, but cancer won. I watched as they broke. And, no words, no act of kindness, no nothing, could have made it any better. We had memories of sweet Ms. Shirley, but we didn't have her, and no amount of memories, or reminiscing would have healed their wounds. It wasn't long after Ms. Shirley passed away from breast cancer, that mom had a friend, pass away. This friend, was also the best friend of my mother in law. So, it also hit too close to home. So, within a year of mom's diagnosis, we had already lost two people to this disease. I was scared. I began hearing about others being diagnosed, left and right. So, I knew then, that I did not want to sit still and silent any longer. I wanted others to know my story, I wanted others to know the facts, and I wanted others to know what to do to catch it early. I wanted others to know, that I had been where they are, and that they could talk to me if they needed to. Awareness, was important to me. I didn't care about who made a donation to what charity, I didn't care who walked in a walk, or ran a race. I cared about the next woman (or man) that I knew, who was going to be faced with this disease. The next friend, that would watch their mom go through the same thing I had been through. The fight was personal.

My fight and advocacy against any cancer, IS personal. I have cried, hugged, sat, talked, and just been there, one too many times for friends who have faced cancer themselves, or with someone that they love. And, all of these times, I have been rocked to the core. It knows no boundaries. Word of mouth is a powerful tool. It is important that you not sit silent. If the opportunity arises, inform someone of the benefits of early detection, not ignoring signs, and yearly physicals. Early detection saves lives.

I am over the top. I am hyper sensitive to the topic. I am offended when cancer, any type is taken lightly, and spoken about, as if it doesn't matter. Cancer knows no boundaries. And, it knows no age. If you haven't been affected by it personally, then count yourself lucky. And, my hope, above all hopes, is that you never will. That you will never know the pain of watching someone you love- lose their hair, or be sick and fragile from chemo. Or that you will never be brought to your knees with the pain and grief, of losing someone you love to cancer. I hope to see the day, where cancer is a diagnosis, just like a cold. Where you can take a pill, and it is gone within seven days. But, until then, I will continue to scream from the mountain tops, how important it is to be aware, and for others to know the facts.

To this day, every time my mom, has a check-up, I hold my breath, until the news comes, that it hasn't returned. And we celebrate, another year.

It became personal, when I had to begin having mammograms last year, because my chance of having breast cancer has now doubled.

It is personal. Very.