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At the age of eight, I lost my mother to breast cancer. My mother was a fierce woman with an undying spirit. Though she was given a year to live, she fought through five more years despite the doctor’s prognosis. I witnessed her go through every conceivable treatment available at the time. During those five years, my mother did everything she could to best prepare my father and me for the inevitable. From teaching me how to do laundry and my father how to cook our favorite meals, she worked to make the transition as smooth as possible. My mother left me video tapes, photos, cassettes of my favorite lullabies, and letters I would read in the years to come.  Of course, no amount of forewarning could prepare someone for the loss of a parent.  I did, nonetheless, receive the gift of time with my mother. Knowing what was coming made me appreciate every moment with her in a way that I probably would not have otherwise. It gave me the chance to accept my mother’s death in a way that most people are not afforded. Having experienced true loss in my own life has cultivated my empathy for others and motivated me to find a way to reach out to others in times of need. In this way I am able to exercise my firmly held belief that no one should have to go through life’s challenges alone. 

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