When cancer touches your life, you are never the same...

I know the disease well. I took care of my beautiful, young mother as she died of pancreatic cancer. Then her sister. Then her mother. Grief became generational.

“Cancer is not for sissies,” observed actress Suzanne Somers, a breast cancer fighter.

Watching cancer drain the life from someone you love is torture: the doctor visits, surgeries, tests, bloodwork, the slow decline. You stand helpless in hopeful vigils, wrapped in sorrow, fear, and quiet rage.

“Sorrow,” said singer Joni Mitchell, “is so easy to express and yet so hard to tell.”

Then it was my turn.

On a sunny Hawaiian February day, I was diagnosed with a rare uterine sarcoma: leiomyosarcoma. My first oncologist gave me a two-in-ten chance of surviving six months. That was many years ago. Through faith, family, and friends, I coped with chemo and surgery, the hair loss, fatigue, and fear. I held tight to hope, determination, and survival.

“Getting cancer can become the beginning of living,” said psychologist Lawrence LeShan. “The search for one’s own being, the discovery of the life one needs to live, can be one of the strongest weapons against disease.”

Today is my birthday. Another year cancer-free. Another year of blessings. Of gratitude. Of awe. I thank every person who helped me get to this moment. Now more than ever, I believe: each birthday, each day, IS a celebration.

My heart sings with happiness because I am so lucky to be able to write this sentence: When cancer touches your life, you are never the same...