I hate cancer

I've been thinking a lot. About a lot of things, but a lot about cancer. I have been struggling a lot, because everything in me wants to shout about how it isn't fair. It isn't fair that cancer got to take so much from me. It isn't fair that the majority of my recent memories are not of the happy, joyful, funny, silly woman who was my mother, but of a hurting, shrinking, angry, sad woman. It's not fair that my daughter won't know the beautiful, fun grandma who loved her SO much and wanted to spoil her.
I'm not angry at someone or even something, I'm just angry that we don't live in the perfect world we were meant to live in. I want something more.
This Sunday I'll run* my 1/2 marathon in honor of the extraordinary woman my mother was. Ugh. Was. I hate using the past tense. I avoid it at all costs, but there it is. I'm not really prepared at all for this race, but I am pretty sure I can finish in the time limits, even if I have to walk most of it. This isn't the end, but just the beginning. The beginning of living with purpose and conviction.

*this term is used loosely and generally to mean some type of physical activity greater than sitting on the couch watching tv.


Can I also say that I'm just not really good at talking about this stuff in person, so I hope if you are reading this that it isn't a surprise to you if I don't really say any of this if you are to ask. I have been blessed beyond measure since my mom's passing and even those little things you think don't matter have meant the world to me.