Ten years ago, my mother died from colon cancer after a three year battle. I was 24 years old, just shy of my 25th birthday. Ten years ago, I felt the world should stop and take notice of the life that was no longer. I felt a similar pang upon hearing my own cancer diagnosis.
Hold on there for a moment, world. Please?
Life perspective at such a young age was a gift; one that I’m still unwrapping as I proceed through my own cancer treatment. Ten years has provided more than just my own healing, it’s provided more hope for people like me who live with cancer. The treatments are more effective and targeted. The prescription drugs my mom used to pay hundreds of dollars for are now available as generics for cents on the dollar.
More than anything, the older I get, the more I realize this truth (among many others, of course): being a grown up is a myth. There’s no magical moment where TA DA! NOW you are officially grown up and you get to understand what the hell is going on. Nope. Truth is, we are all just making it up as we go. And even better, IT’S OKAY. We don’t have to have all the answers. And we certainly don’t have to keep doing what we’re doing. We can change our minds, our beliefs, our bodies, our philosphies… a million times over. My goal is to keep growing and improving each day.
That’s the beautiful chaos of life that I’m learning to embrace. 35 looks promising.
“Life is amazing. And then it’s awful. And then it’s amazing again. And in between the amazing and the awful it’s ordinary and mundane and routine. Breathe in the amazing, hold on through the awful, and relax and exhale during the ordinary. That’s just living heartbreaking, soul-healing, amazing, awful, ordinary life. And it’s breathtakingly beautiful.” – L.R. Knost