You are getting ready to leave for Chicago. You are going to run your first ever marathon! You will run in memory and in honor of those affected by cancer.
I admire you. I am proud of you. I love you.
I wish that I could be there to root you on. Things didn't go like I had hoped and so I won't be there. But know that I am there with you, in spirit and love, in support and gratitude.
I admire you. I am proud of you. I love you.
Tita
Saturday, October 08, 2011
Thursday, October 06, 2011
Ap*ple icon Ste*ve J*obs passed away yesterday from his battle with cancer. People were in shock, people felt deeply about it. I didn't allow myself those feelings. I actually tried to ignore and walk away from the conversation. It wasn't to diminish the event or disrespect him. I just can't engage in those conversations.
The "people" I speak of are those that have been affected by cancer because they know someone, love someone who has it or has had it. They are the ones that hurt more outwardly because they cannot do anything for those that they care about when the body decides that it doesn't want to fight anymore.
For me, as a survivor in remission...it's always in the back of my mind. That never-ending thought that says that time is precious and do what needs to be done today, not tomorrow. How can I still have those thoughts in my head? It's four years today since my collapse. Tests upon tests have shown nothing significant inside of me. And yet, my mind keeps this thought burning as a small ember in my brain. I laid in bed thinking last night..the memories of what happened that early morning playing back in my mind...
Four years of survivorship, three and a half of remission...they say at five of remission, I will be claimed "cured." I chuckle as I type that. CURED...what does that really mean? See, for as much as I have always said that cancer does not define who I am, it does lend to the definition of who I am..it is an undeniable attribute that I will always carry. I refused to tell people I had cancer when I was going through my worst days because I thought that admitting it was accepting a losing battle. I learned eventually that admitting it was actually accepting my strength and love for life. So for the rest of my life, there can never be a point where I don't acknowledge that I am a survivor, cured or not.
Mr. J*obs was a brilliant man..creative and innovative, way ahead of some of us. He will be missed. I am grateful that I have been able to see how his products have evolved through the years. When he stepped down as the top guy of his company, I said a prayer hoping that he would be okay. Your ability to take the risks to see beyond the end of the road was extraordinary...something that I would love to emulate. Thank you, Mr. J*obs for being a pillar of ingenuity and vision and a stronghold of humanity through your ability to build people up to be productive in such a way that pulled people closer together through technology. Seems like an oxymoron, and yet that was probably why you were such a success. Thoughts and prayers to the family and friends...
The "people" I speak of are those that have been affected by cancer because they know someone, love someone who has it or has had it. They are the ones that hurt more outwardly because they cannot do anything for those that they care about when the body decides that it doesn't want to fight anymore.
For me, as a survivor in remission...it's always in the back of my mind. That never-ending thought that says that time is precious and do what needs to be done today, not tomorrow. How can I still have those thoughts in my head? It's four years today since my collapse. Tests upon tests have shown nothing significant inside of me. And yet, my mind keeps this thought burning as a small ember in my brain. I laid in bed thinking last night..the memories of what happened that early morning playing back in my mind...
Four years of survivorship, three and a half of remission...they say at five of remission, I will be claimed "cured." I chuckle as I type that. CURED...what does that really mean? See, for as much as I have always said that cancer does not define who I am, it does lend to the definition of who I am..it is an undeniable attribute that I will always carry. I refused to tell people I had cancer when I was going through my worst days because I thought that admitting it was accepting a losing battle. I learned eventually that admitting it was actually accepting my strength and love for life. So for the rest of my life, there can never be a point where I don't acknowledge that I am a survivor, cured or not.
Mr. J*obs was a brilliant man..creative and innovative, way ahead of some of us. He will be missed. I am grateful that I have been able to see how his products have evolved through the years. When he stepped down as the top guy of his company, I said a prayer hoping that he would be okay. Your ability to take the risks to see beyond the end of the road was extraordinary...something that I would love to emulate. Thank you, Mr. J*obs for being a pillar of ingenuity and vision and a stronghold of humanity through your ability to build people up to be productive in such a way that pulled people closer together through technology. Seems like an oxymoron, and yet that was probably why you were such a success. Thoughts and prayers to the family and friends...
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