Lynn.

A few weeks back, my cousin Lynn, a breast cancer survivor, shared with us that her cancer had come back in the brain. There were multiple tumors that caused her to have a seizure. The plan was for her to undergo chemo and radiation. Lynn was so positive and confident- she was ready to fight cancer, once again. Unfortunately, the cancer is just too strong this time. Lynn's health is declining.

Today Lynn's Facebook page has been absolutely flooded with incredibly sweet messages from her friends and family. It is quite evident that she is very loved- whether it's an old college buddy, a neighbor,  or a parent of one of her former preschool students, Lynn was admired. I sat in front of my screen for quite a while trying to figure out what to write to her. There just aren't any words.

I want to be mad. How dare cancer come and latch itself onto someone so young? I want to be sad. I hate knowing that Lynn is so uncomfortable, and my heart absolutely aches for her, for her boyfriend, for her siblings and for her dear, sweet parents. I want to HELP. I want to FIX IT. I want it to stop, I want her to get better. I want cancer to go away. I want us all to live in a world where cancer doesn't exist.

And I can promise you, the American Cancer Society is working tirelessly to make that happen. I know some don't believe me. Some people believe a cure is out there and someone is hiding it so that we can continue to make money off of cancer. That is so far from the truth. Each and every day I work alongside doctors, nurses, social workers, researchers, specialists, etc who want cancer eliminated just as much, if not more, than you do. Even if it means we're out of a job. That would be the best day of my life, of all of our lives, is if cancer was no longer in business.

So I can't take away Lynn's pain and I can't kick the cancer out of her body with a snap of my fingers, and I can't even find the right words to comfort her or her family, but I will keep being a warrior in the fight to end cancer. That, I can promise you. Cancer is going DOWN.

My own memories of Lynn are faded. We are eight years apart, and when she went off to college in New Orleans I was just 10 years old. She never moved home after that. But I do have some memories. They mostly consist of Christmas gatherings and doll houses and Fort Walton Beach. But one thing I clearly remember is that I always thought she was just so cool. She was so artsy and creative and passionate. She was in a band-I mean come ON! How cool is that? I loved that she was a preschool teacher. She was so easy to talk to, always smiling. Even back then, I thought she was one of the bravest people I knew. She still is. She always will be.

Tonight as I was praying and reflecting and trying not to punch a wall while all my emotions came out, I suddenly thought of Laurence. Laurence was my cousin who passed away at 16 from brain cancer in 2010. Something told me "Laurence has got this". I know he is watching over Lynn and our entire family right now. He's been where she is now. I can just picture him standing over her, praying with her, playing a U2 song.

To close, I will share with you Lynn's band, The Kitty Lynn Band. It is a collection of pictures of her and the band with their cover of "Run Boy Run"