When we were on the way home from the last soccer game of the day yesterday, my husband was playing on my phone in the passenger seat. He figured out how to live stream football games to my phone, and since I am the one with the unlimited data plan, he has to use my phone. Right?
As we drove further away from Denver, back towards the sticks, the coverage went from 4G to 3G pretty abruptly, which resulted in his videos getting messed up. Lots of buffering. Lots of whining by the man in the passenger seat with the first world problems.
He jokingly said that if the entire world had 4G, it would be a better place.
Which might be true and all, but I guess that wouldn't be the first thing I'd go to as a way to improve the overall status of the world.
I'd be more likely to request world peace or the end of hunger or the availability of basic medical care or the end of oppression or a cure for cancer.
But that's just me.
That last one, it's hitting home today.
Cancer is an asshole.
Like, all the way through to it's core. It's just evil.
There are far too many people in this life that have been touched by it. I learned of another yesterday. In the past few months, too many people I love have lost someone to it. There's a little boy, sick and beaten down by it this week, refusing to let it define who he is. Who wants nothing more in the whole wide world than to just be a preschooler right now.
It's been a very emotional week for me in terms of all this. Writing the post about Lance brought back all kinds of memories of the hell we went through, and even after all these years it is hard to revisit. That's the thing about cancer that those who've never been touched by it can't understand. Once it's been in your house, in your life, in your family, it never ever leaves. It's always there, lingering in the background.
You've lost that sense of invincibility. You've been forced to let go of the idea that you will wake up tomorrow and everything will be okay. It might not be. And there is almost nothing that you can do about it.
I dreamt about my dad last night, surely because of what I went to bed thinking about. These days, that's when he seems the most real to me still. When I can hear his voice and see his smile. I miss him more when I wake up, but it's worth it.
If you aren't following her already, I urge you all to find Mary Tyler Mom on Facebook and share her journey. Her little girl, Donna, left this world too soon. In celebration of her life, and in an attempt to let people know what it's really like to have a sick child, she has documented their experiences. Their pain. Their victories. Their struggles. Their agonizing choices.
Sheila is amazing. Her strength and resolve to fight this fight with her little girl is breathtaking. That she now continues to tell Donna's story and ensure that her life and death will not be in vain is an inspiration. The Huffington Post is featuring her stories, one each day this month, and with each day my heart breaks a little more.
It's because I know how her story ends, and I know that each day's post is one day nearer.
I've never met Sheila, and I never had the chance to meet her beautiful little girl. Still, she has touched my life, and she should touch yours too.
I urge you to find her and follow her and fall in love with her.
I also ask you to consider donating to those organizations who actually fund cancer research. We gave to Stand Up To Cancer this weekend.
I stand up for my Dad and for Trey and for Donna. For those who are gone, for those just diagnosed this week, for those fighting for their lives.
Who do you stand up for?
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