Now and then from my mailbox an email jumps on me with a surprise. Yesterday, it was from someone I've never met but with whom I've communicated with through emails and who I got to know through her own blog.
She has shared her thoughts on my blog entry about love and hoping and wanting to be 'the chosen one'. And though she didn't know me personally, she said she'd pray that I would finally find 'Mr. Right". It was dated 5 November 2005. Yes, I do keep all my emails with exception of the spam.
Yesterday, her email sounded more contemplative. She shared with me that she has been diagnosed recently with Stage 2 Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, a form of breast cancer which begins in the breast milk ducts. The other kind of breast cancer is called lobular which originates from the glands that produces the milk (Source: The Mayo Clinic )
Her type of breast cancer is the more common type, which affects more than 70 percent of all breast cancers. She told me that she had a lumpectomy and had to go through radiation, chemotherapy, of course, continuous medication. This despite confirmation that her lymph nodes were clear because her kind of cancer is very aggressive.
Zarah is based in Los Angeles. She is married and has two very young sons. Through this very tough times, she has the love of her men to keep her optimistic for the future. She has blog but she hasn't updated much recently so maybe with your urging she might choose to share her stories, too. Her blog, Thoughts on Parade provides us a glimpse on the life of a woman who writes about her life no more different from our lives. She talks about her loves, her sorrows, she shares her past and her hopes and her dreams. In many ways, she is us.
Tough times that call for a lot of moral support - meaningful even from strangers. It calls for prayers, lots and lots of prayers, thoughtful emails to wish her well and just simple gestures to let her know she is not alone.
Her email: email@example.com.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Ask any woman and they will mostly tell you that their breasts are their most loved part of their body - albeit it be small, mid-sized or humungous. We start to grow them when we stop being children and start our journey toward womanhood. As mothers, our body changes to accommodate the new life growing inside of us and then the breasts starts to produce nourishment for the baby. And there is nothing else on earth - natural or man-made that can equal the nourishment that the mother's breast milk gives to the young baby.
I have chosen to pour my efforts into breast cancer research and the funding for the improvement of the quality of life for cancer patients. It doesn't mean I care for the cause to cure other kinds of cancer less. I do and more than that, I wish I could find enough resources as well to research and find a cure for epilepsy as well and for many kinds of bad addictions that diminishes a person's self control over their own body. If I had enough resources I'd go out there and put money into improving the well-being of poverty stricken children who lack the basic needs of life. I'f I had the resources I'd build shelters for the children who become victims of families that are broken by drug addiction and criminality and of abuse.
But because I only have enough to get by on my own (and sometimes yes, not even enough for that), I believe that the little things that I can do mean a lot because if I can spread this passion to everyone lucky enough to have a little bit then all our little efforts put together makes for a lot.
So I made $250 in donations this year - online and in checks. Friends sent amounts ranging from $50 to $10 which are but a drop in the ocean of funds required for beating the battle for breast cancer research but together, in my name we have a bucket's worth.
This is my way of giving back the gratitude for all the blessings that I receive. This year it is to be grateful for another bill of good health for myself and my family, a job that I truly love and for great and loyal friends who are there when I need them. For all of these and all of them, I will proudly wear my pink ribbon every chance I get.
Posted by Maria Victoria at 19:07
Sunday, October 12, 2008
I was digging through old files for my school records. As expected, when you begin such an exercise you are bound to re-discover some old treasures. I did. Like old hand-made cards and lots of notes and letters One that struck me as most touching was a poem from my sister. On 17 October in 1998, her birthday, she wrote poems to everyone in the family (Nicole reminded me). For me she wrote:
Happy birthday to you, sis!
For thirty one yearsThe words became familiar. The love, so much more.
I've watched your every step.
Wondering how you stood your ground,
When I could have only wept.
You thought you were in my shadow,
That's what once you've said.
And I've questioned ever since,
how you couldn't see the truth instead.
If you look back then you'd see,
It has aways been your shadow,
where else would I want to be?
Happy birthday to you, sis!
Posted by Maria Victoria at 18:10