Facebook just shared some memories with me today. Not that I needed Facebook to tell me where I was two years ago and what my friends were tagging me in on their status updates that day.
This tumor with all its power to put him into a world of darkness – a world of black and white – cannot kill the colors in his soul. It cannot touch what Coby can still share with the world.
The first time I really noticed Breast Cancer Awareness Month was while I was recovering from a bi-lateral mastectomy and a cancer diagnosis that fast-tracked me into a whole new plane of existence and a new level of intolerance for all things pink and sparkly. Especially ribbons, which seemed to be sprouting off everyone’s lapels like weeds.
That was the moment, the moment when the roller coaster in his world started going up again, the moment that my 10 year old understood the personal power he had inside. He wasn’t passive, he was strong. He was confident. He could ride any coaster, figurative or literal, and come out triumphant.
I know I am not unique in this. I remember seeing adults crying at weddings and telling myself that I will never be like that, and now, here I am falling apart over smiling pictures of my kids at camp and hiding in my closet so none of my other kids will see.
Actively take part in the greatest kickstarter ever that’s been running for years behind the scenes of every hashtag, meme, and status update but has somehow fallen behind the far easier “click and share” culture of publicly feeling good.
Even though I had seen that set up so many times, I wasn’t prepared for the emotional punch of seeing my own kid in that place. Walking on train tracks that led millions to their deaths. Walking through rooms that might have been the last places of my family.