Thirteen years have passed since I heard those life-altering words, and though time moves forward, certain memories remain etched into the fabric of my being, too private to ever share with anyone but my son. Only he truly understands the weight of that “Dark Night of the Soul,” the moment when the world splits open and everything I thought I knew was replaced by the stark reality of “You have cancer. It’s stage 3, and it’s aggressive.”
This post is an entry for the AR July 2025 Challenge: Change hosted by Lew Corcoran and Patricia Feager.
Before June 6, 2012, the day my surgeon called after the biopsy, I imagined the most challenging event in my life would be leaping from an airplane, an act of courage and abandon I thought would define my limits. But perhaps, in some mysterious way, that Mother’s Day skydiving jump was God’s way of preparing me for a far greater test. Because with a single phone call, everything changed.
Mother's Day, May 2012
I refused to surrender. I declared, with unshakable resolve, that cancer would not claim me, no way, absolutely not! Instead, I resolved to fight, to go to battle as fiercely as I could.
My days became a blur of medical appointments, consultations, and preparations for chemotherapy and surgery, all while unexpected complications arose. My life became a juggling act, fighting cancer with everything I had, while still running my real estate business.
There were dark moments like the day I called my son from the emergency room to explain that doctors had discovered a massive blood clot in my left jugular vein, stretching down my arm. If the clot moved, the consequences could mean death. The photo below is of me waiting for surgery on 10-11-2012.
I learned that hair has no value and bald heads get cold.
I thank God every single day for the blessing of cancer, for how it changed me personally and professionally. How could it not?
Cancer stripped away every illusion of control and demanded that I meet myself anew, raw, real, and unguarded. In the darkest hours, when pain was relentless and exhaustion bone-deep, I discovered a source of strength I’d never known.
There was beauty, too, woven into the fabric of pain, a beauty born of quiet and peaceful moments of perseverance, gratitude, and the fierce tenderness of my son, who stood with me.
I carry forward a profound respect for life, an unshakable commitment to my values, and a deeper love for the work I do and the people I do it for. That Dark Night of the Soul illuminated new truths, forever changing me and how I navigate my days.
My friends hosted a "Pink Party" Celebration
A cancer diagnosis is not a life sentence. It’s a challenge, not a verdict.
Life is a Precious Gift
Every day is a day to celebrate.
Treasure every moment.
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