I’m still here 

I hate this about myself, but… I really resent people feeling sorry for themselves…


Because they are still here.

I know how irritating it must be to hear this from a 33 year old in (nearly) perfect health…

But, regardless of the trials I’ve lived through, I’m still here too. 

Life may be wrought with hardship and trial, but this life is a temporary means to an eternal end.

What you may not know about me… my older sister died of cancer  in her 30’s. I’ve never met my FIL nor MIL aside from visiting their gravesite. Why? Because cancer.

I HATE cancer. However, it is a familiar foe. 

If you are here, and you are alive, just STOP. You have an advantage very few that have gone before you do….You are still here.

I know how much it sucks to have cancer… I embraced my dying sister in my arms days before she died. And, I had to cut short my last visit with her on earth, because my Dad spent the whole time complaining about his arthritis. True story.

I wish I had known my sister better. I wish I had known she only had 6 months to live between knowledge of her diagnosis and her death. I wish… so many different things. 

But you?! And me? We are still here!

Relish the time you have with your loved ones… because not one of us is guaranteed a set lifespan.

If this life was all there was, I’d be much more charitable… but it’s not all there is.

Use your time wisely. I think about my own death every single day. That’s what you inherit when so many family members die ‘before their time’.

I know your life is hard. Harder than most… But, you are still here.

Many of us, touched by cancer, are already living each day as if it was our last.

You are in good company…. in company of those that no longer take their short life here for granted.

Don’t you dare give up!

Don’t you dare give into the temptation to pity yourself. Self-compassion? Yes! Self-pity? Hell no!

The difference between self-compassion and self-pity is perhaps best demonstrated by my sister on her deathbed. She hung onto my father’s every word, with tears welling up in her then sunken eyes. I knew, she knew, and my BIL knew that our Dad still didn’t get it. He still believed this life was all about him. Not one of us corrected him, because time together was already slipping through our fingers. Compassion brought us together in that poignant moment. Self-pity drove a wedge between my Dad and the rest of humanity.

You need to fight this. Fight cancer. Fight self-pity. Fight despair.

This life isn’t over until it’s actually over.

I’m still fighting for you! Please, join me!