I am an optimist; always have been.
Even in my greatest struggles and darkest days if I took a moment to dig deep to my core, I would find faith that tomorrow would be better; the pain would pass and the difficulty and discomfort would ease.
Over the years I have found my “faith” and it is always with me.
I believe that there is something bigger at play in my life than “me” and what I want or think I know.
I also believe that to be true in the the lives of my loved ones.
Take for instance, my sister.
Her name is Tracey.
She is, and always has been a constant supporter and friend to me.
From the moment I was born you would see photos of us with her arms wrapped around me, holding me up or pulling me along.
She cared for me and tried to keep me out of trouble.
Many times it turned out to be a bigger job than she had bargained for!
But throughout the years, through our teenaged angst, college separation and all my career moves, my sister has been the one to stay put.
Living not far from our childhood home, friends, and family.
A giver, a good friend, teacher, mother, wife, daughter and so much more.
A few months back she didn’t feel well and went to the doctor.
Tests revealed she had a large tumor attached to her ovary.
Initial tests didn’t indicate cancer, so we breathed a sigh of relief.
The tumor was removed along with the ovary and fallopian tube it was attached to.
We thought that was it.
A week later, the ovarian test came back – positive for Stage I – Ovarian cancer.
Her world certainly turned on it’s head.
As a mother of a 16 and 12 year old, she knew things were soon to forever change.
She has six chemotherapy treatments to get through…”two” are already behind her.
Her hair is now gone, and her strength sometimes too, but her resolve to face this “head on” is unwavering.
She often tells me how proud she is of me and what I’ve accomplished in my life.
But I am the one that’s proud.
So proud of her, and all that she is and all that she will continue to become.
I asked her permission to write about her, and she said: “Please do. I want to share in case it might help someone.”
That’s my sister.
I mention my optimism and faith at the beginning of this because I believe my sister’s tumor may have saved her life.
Without it, we might not have ever discovered she had ovarian cancer.
Or certainly not have caught it so early.
In a month, I have watched my sister grow stronger and stronger internally while weaker at times physically.
I have “faith” that there is something bigger at work here.
I am already watching it blossom in my sister.
Her struggle and desire to share it with others, will no doubt make a difference in the lives around her.
I know it’s already made a difference in mine.
I love you….dear, sweet sister.