My mother was a fighter. A strong-willed, independent and stubborn woman. She was diagnosed at age 36 with breast cancer. At the time I didn't understand what it meant. I was only 9 years old. I just knew my mom was sick and had to take care of it. For the next ten years she fought cancer, went into remission, fought it again but ultimately the cancer won.
I miss her every day. Sometimes, even though it has been almost 9 years since she passed, I think about calling her and realize I can't. I want to tell her about what is going on in my life, the old friend I bumped into, the new friend getting married, life!
In the past four years I have run 4 marathons. With each one I try to raise money for cancer research. I want to make sure people go get themselves checked out, that they check themselves out! It's important and should not be overlooked!
This past year my best friend lost her father to cancer. I had thought about getting a tattoo for my mother and my best friend and I went together to get memorial tattoos. My mother always said she would return as a bird. I think she liked the idea of being free. So now I can look down at my wrist and think of the strong, beautiful, amazing woman my mother was and be reminded of all she gave to me even though she was taken too soon.
Denver, CO
