My beautiful daughter Nicole- speaking at a Candlelight Vigil to honor & in remembrance..

I’m reminded through the tears of others that love is eternal, each flicker of light represents the deepest love of all that which not even cancer nor death can take away. There are moments when I find it hard to look into the sad eyes of those who have lost a loved one, my heart aches, the tears swell, I feel compelled to do something ----- I’m strengthened by my own sense of resolve to do just that. I must be the voice for those who are forever silenced. Khrissy Lupinacci

Summer 08

We don't accomplish anything in this world alone ... and whatever happens is the result of the whole tapestry of one's life and all the weavings of individual threads from one to another that creates something. Sandra Day O'connor

Pending like morning.

I've been a writer of sorts, my entire life. As a child, amidst the sighs and whining of my peers, I was the kid who secretly jumped for joy each time a teacher requested a "writing assignment".

I had made a promise to myself that by the age of 30, I would write and publish the "great american novel". 30 seems so long ago, yet not that far away. Although, I've had an interesting life and more than interesting life experiences, to date my promise to myself remains unfulfilled.

“ There are two great days
in a person’s life-

the day we are born
and the day we discover why.”

William Barclay

Emerging into the quantum, leaping into the unknown, a leap of faith or a test of my courage and convictions to live a life outside the confines of complacency. In retrospect, the desire has always existed~ a perpetual passion~ like an ocean churning.

TEAL POWER

IS IT YOU?

Nicole's Grandparents, Bill and Judith McAlilster

Getting the House Ready for Christmas 2007

Freshly brewed

The usual, white chocolate Mocha, non-fat milk, hold the whip. I’m a Starbucks regular……junkie, I am addicted, superstitous too. I can easily justify my need for caffeine & chocolate, but it’s nearly midnight and all justice systems are closed, after all at midnight, there’s no order in my court.

So while ordering up my fix earlier today, a woman awaiting her fix commented on my bracelet. She smiled to catch my eye & then inquired. Does your bracelet say hope? I had thought she was referring to my L’oreal Hope Bracelet & looked to see if it said “ Hope”? she saw me turning the bracelet to inspect & said no, the teal one, the other wrist. Ah’ I said forgetting that I had two wrists, oh’ no, I responded this one says “ Overcome”. It’s lovely she said. I found that a bit odd since it’s just a plastic teal awareness band-but I smiled back at her to be kind. Giggled quietly to myself as I noticed other coffee addicts stretching their necks to see what was so lovely. Some even made baffled faces as I did on the inside of course.

She asked "What does Overcome stand for? “ it’s an awareness band for Ovarian Cancer, with the hope that together we can overcome ovarian cancer. Oh’ that’s lovely, she said. We both nodded & smiled at one another in agreement. The Barister yelped “ White chocolate mocha, non fat , with whip & handed the coffee directly to me and then took it away & said you’re a no whip right? I nodded, smiled & said hard to believe, settling in for another minute or two as they made another without whipcream.

Did you lose someone to Ovarian Cancer? She asked gently. I said " I’ve lost a lot of wonderful friends to the disease" far to many. Paused for a moment ad added " but I’m a 5 year survivor of Ovarian Cancer. She gasped & grabbed my arm & said “God Bless you” I’m so sorry. So did you beat it? Are you cured? I thought for a moment on how to answer this, how to respond? I said 5 years is a milestone, however the recurrence rate for Ovarian Cancer is quite high, I’m not out of the woods yet, in a clearing perhaps, making my way to the picnic area, but still not out of the woods. I laughed hearing my own analogy.

Another woman listening in, blurted “ My Aunt died of Ovarian Cancer 5 years ago! She left 3 young kids. It’s a horrible disease, no cure.

I’m sorry for your loss I said. Yes there is not a cure, nor a test. A woman sitting behind us said “ I lost my best friend to Ovarian Cancer & my sister to Uterine Cancer in the same year. We all turned around & said “ I’m sorry at the same time. Coffee up--they announced Venti White Chocolate non fat-no whip, as I moved in to the barister station yo retrieve my coffee.

A young man all of 20 ish, awaiting the barrister smiled & said “ I wish you good health” surprised by this , I smiled and said "thank you and the same to you" . He said “ my mother died of breast cancer 15 years ago. Oh!!! I’m soo sorry!!! She must of been soo young? Yes, he replied she was 32. All the women offered their condolences & comfort. He smiled almost embarrassed now & said all I remember is she had red hair-like you-he pointed to me and she loved to dance. he said “I was young”she died when I was 7 years old. I wanted to grab hold of him & hug him, not the man but the little wounded frightened boy, the boy who lost his Mommy. The boy, the little boy. I stopped in my tracks, halted all thoughts & saw the boy of seven & felt the weight of his tragic childhood, his sorrow, his pain, his lonliness, the wound, the wound still present. I imagined tarnished yet implanted upon his soul.

Within my head ( that scary place where thoughts dwell) I began doing the math….2007 minus 15 years equals 1992. 15 plus 7 equals 22, he was 22. Still not sure why I felt it relevant to figure out his age? But I found myself wondering what I was doing in 1992, 93. 94, 95? Was that a happy time? had I been sick? I ran through the years as though had I known I could of helped.
In 1992 a younf boy was alone, afraid, crying and missing his Mom. I quietly raged against the injustice, my heart tore for him and for the loss of a young Mom who I had never met.

I listened as the women consoled him with words of kindness " I’m sure your Mom would be very proud of you. I’m sure she is looking over you. I smiled witnessing humanity.

He was a tall boy, had to 6 feet 3 or 4 inches, I wondered if his Mom was tall? I looked at him with Mother’s eyes & thought she would be proud, how could you not? How many young men, pause in their day to talk to a bunch of over-caffenated ladies? there he was smiling and nodding with such a warm and compassionate smile, he was respectful and considerate.

Without warning the tears rolled, I was embarrased by these unexpected visitors and quickly manuevered my sunglasses to cover my eyes. Thought I was swift in the cover up, but he the motherless boy and the barrister both commented on my tears. I tried to laugh it off and blame it on an emotional week, but the truth is sad things make us cry.

All four of us walked out the door together, talking, reflecting on the beautiful day, each with our own direction, sipping our different coffees , though touching the hearts and mind of one another, although I'm a self-professed Starbucks a-holic nothing beats the flavor of freshly brewed humanity.


Khrissy Lupinacci

Some call it therapy, I prefer neccesity.

Always freshly brewed my coffee & retrospection.

Maintaining a well-balanced madness in the aura of uncertainty & disorder.

Seek and Ye Shall find

Seek & ye shall find.

Look for dark & you shall find it. Look for for light and it will appear.



The optimist sees the doughnut, but the pessimist sees the hole.

Why the difference? I believe it's simply a matter of attitude.



It’s difficult to maintain hope and sustain courage while standing on the slippery and delicate threshold of life & death. One can never forget the cold, cavernous and terrifying grip of cancers ambiguity.

Simplicity

This is Emmy

This is " Emily " the divine Miss Em. What a joy this child brings to my life. Emily is my niece, my Godchild, my sister Tricia's daughter. She's a fiesty one, determined, clever, creative, imaginative, active, sparkling & so full of life.

Tricia struggled for many years trying to achieve pregnancy, I watched her face disappointment month after month, year after year. It broke my heart to witness her sadness & disappointment, I had secretly considered becoming a surrogate so to give her a child.

While still in ICU recovering after my Ovarian Cancer surgery, my sister announced that she was at long last finally pregnant ( via invitro fertilization) & fertility drugs. This news came at the best, thee very best moment. My world was dank, dark & desperate--all hopes had receded into the cold & unfamiliar abyss of uncertainty. I had believed that my cancer diagnosis would forever surround me in darks everlasting grip, I never expected that I'd see rays of hope & promise of a tomorrow. Emily gave me hope!

When Tricia announced her pregnancy I was so delighted, in an odd way --although I had just undergone a full radical hystrectomy, I felt that this child was a huge part of me too. Indeed that has proven to be true. I am Emmy's " Auntie--next to her Mom & Dad--I'm next in the favorite category. I just adore her & she adores her Auntie- we are a great fit!

I was there moments after Emily's birth----I got to hold her mere minutes after she was born & was able to welcome her with kisses & smiles. My sister Tricia & I will NEVER forget a special moment we shared with Miss Em only minutes after her birth. While holding Emily & cooing over her beauty & the glory of her tiny being- she said " Hi " to us!!! NO joke! No kidding! she only minutes old looked at us both & said " hi " it's something we will never forget-a moment we will treasure forever! Those who were not there ---are non-believers- however the attending nurse heard it too. This child was & is amazing right from the very beginning---I can't wait to see what she'll accomplish in the future.

This photo is Spring 2006-----our favorite Duck Pond & Park in Moriches.

Purpose

Wave of Hope Gala 2005

The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe

The Raven
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore -
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door -
Only this and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly yours forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you" - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?" -
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"
Merely this and nothing more.
Then into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping something louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!"
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his Hope the melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never-nevermore.'"
But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by Horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? tell me - tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting -
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
(First Published in 1845)

Of all the cancers to which women are prey, ovarian cancer is the deadliest.

March 6th, 2002

I received news that would inevitably change my worlds view & stance, forever.

The good news ” I was Not a Hypochondriac”

The Bad News “ I had cancer” Ovarian Clear Cell Stage 3 C – I was 38 years old, a wife & mother of two daughters.

Although I’d like to tell you that this news came as an utter shock & with absolute disbelief, the truth is strangely somehow I knew. I just wasn’t able to prove it, till it proved itself. I knew something was seriously wrong.

My body was under assault, feeling desperate I searched for defense.
I sought out many medical professional opinions, several internists, General Practioners, Gynecologist, Rhuematologist, Endocrinologist, Gastro, Proctologist, etc, etc. I received an assortment of diagnoses-nevertheless I was hopeful that just one would work, get me well & stop the pain.

I was told the back pain was sciatica, the lower back & groin pain was kidney stones. The fatigue was simply because I was doing too much, needed to slow down. The joint pain was fibromyalgia, the swelling was rheumatoid arthritis, Lymes Disease, Lupus or Sjogren's. The bloating & constipation was because I was getting older & I needed more fiber. The stomach swelling might be due to too much fiber, the abdominal pressure was due to the chronic constipation & irritable bowel. The painful debilitating periods were simply not concerning enough to warrant further examination. The urinary frequency was because I drank too much coffee & tea, the incontinence was because I didn't get enough fluids. The unexplained, yet rapid weight gain was attributed to my fatigue. The difficulty breathing might be sleep apnea, the leg pain was related to sciatica.
There was a cat that ate the mouse that ate the cheese that lived in the house that ignorance built & I bought it.


I could not stand for more than two minutes without feeling unrelenting pain.
I needed to sit every few steps. The back-pain was constant, cruel & severe. Ibuprophens became my daily bread.

Simple tasks were strenuous & grueling, I’d require breaks in between blow drying my hair, and applying makeup mainly because my arms & joints were weak & weary.
I’d take little bites of food, 3 bites of an apple felt the equiveant of consuming a thanksgiving day feast. My abdomen was growing, the shooting pains in my back & groin were worsening with intensity & frequency. I was literally consumed by constipation, laxatives, fiber and jarred prunes no longer provided relief, often I found myself constipated for up to 3 weeks. The slightest pressure on my abdomen caused tremendous pain, I couldn’t even rest my hand on my stomach while sleeping without feeling such pain.

Of all the cancers to which women are prey, ovarian cancer is the deadliest.

" Don't Pretend to Know Me" 1996

"Don't Pretend To Know Me"


How infernal still the words can be

Potent as poison with such animosity

Filled with nemesis and disdain

My birth , your contemptuous pain

Infallible the trademark you elicitate

Your quest, the relentless pursuit to humiliate

Belligerent, antagonistic, is my wall, my exterior

This wall I have been building since my anterior

My God, can't you see, the coldness

It was your hand, that created my boldness

Your words, infer still that I am deranged

Disillusioned and hopelessly estranged

Ha! Don't pretend to know me, you haven't a clue

Sadly though, I do know you

This image that stands before you, you once hoped to be

How egocentric, to try to deprive this right from me

Childhood wishes and dreams , lasted only moments in a breeze

Hatred and malice ruled my land, my innocence you did seize

In the blackened streets of the Dragon City , a child walked alone

You rejoiced you had back your serpent ,crown, and throne

Bitterness took me by the hand, spite became my will, my fire

Nonconforming, rebellious, raging, was my pill, I did sire

The aftermath of a child, enraged with pain, without a voice

Today, I am the Keeper of my land, with my power of choice

Don't you dare pretend to know me, you haven't a clue

Of my discontent, agony, and whispers tainted blue

You look into my eyes as though they will tell

It's my soul that holds the story , of the belly of my hell

Exiled, into a land unknown

Without a place to call my home

The unanswered questions still roam

They lurk within my every poem

Khristina Lupinacci 1996

" Kiss Me Tonight" 1996

"Kiss Me Tonight"


In the comely light of night

A midst the fires burning light

Blanket me your warmth tonight

While we whisper in delight

Taste the wine , embrace the flavor

Unclothed, the desire , we both savor

Exalted passion, unleashes , free

You become I ,....... I become thee

Perfumed with rapture of ecstasy

Tempt me with your willful ways

Take me into your flaming blaze

Impassioned with fever you sow

The seed of love we grow

Clouded spirits enchanted bliss

My soul awakened by your kiss

Quiver me tonight, I plead

Shudder me with selfish greed

Embrace me in your heart

Pull me close ....sweetheart

Wrap me in your savage grip

Take me on this yearnful trip

Dare me.... With your thirst

Kiss me softly ,..... deeply first

Blanket me your warmth tonight

A midst the fires burning light...
Khristina Lupinacci 1996

' If Only I was the Rock" 1996

"If Only I Was The Rock"


If only I was the rock instead of the stream

I would be inspired by this paradox

and own my dream

If only to touch for a moment upon my desires

I would ignite the flame of my willful fires

If only courage was my given name

Happiness then would be my fame

If only I could step outside of this realm of pain

My life would no longer be lived in vain

If only I could conquer these brutal fears

I would banish away my endless tears

If only I could separate myself from grief

I would sigh in the sound of my own relief

If only I lived without conflict and strife

I would then be content and satisfied with life

If only I could make the voices cease

I would then live in a world of peace

If only I could stand obscure among the sheep

I would halt the words and get some sleep
Then I could truly proclaim.....

That I am not insane.....

Khristina Lupinacci 1996

The Spector of Morality" 1996

"Specter Of Mortality"

Clouds sail above me
Like cotton covering pills
The sun goes down on my heart
The avalanche of sacrificing wills
I fuse corrupting poison with evil
Swallowing it into my head
Erecting my hands mirror to deliverance
A tortured ode to chanting dread
With the devil's tongue in my mouth
And God's white glove upon my cheek
I escape the specter of mortality
Eclipsed by the moon the sun is weak
I descend within the dragons mouth
As deaths shadow lurks in the wings
Like emptying the box of cracker jacks
In search of the purest plastic ring
With Pagans and infidels at their post
Extricated from my minds catholic home
Like the fragrance after a rain storm
The cross bleeds ....my hand begins to roam
Crossing over the perils and pitfalls
Into the cellar of galactic desolating hate
The icy tears of yesterdays child still warm
Alas the final confrontation........ I contemplate
Adrift the crossroads of my oasis capturing my eyes rain
Like sending postcards of yesterday to tommorows gate
I hobnob with my sorrow and lionize with my pain
Oblique words and turmoils- wet paint- my muse... my fate
Khristina Lupinacci 1996

Yesterday Lingers 1996

Yesterday Lingers"

Yesterdays shadow still lingers
Upon my sunny day
Clutched still are my fingers
Of all you did not say
The flowers stand within the gardens
The birds still sing their song
Yet, yesterday still wardens
With the breeze of something wrong

Khristina Lupinacci 1996

"The Phantom of Light " 1994

"The Phantom Of Light"
I am the Phantom of a distant light
The warmth of coldness of night
The oceans grander and waves of sand
I am the pulse of a dead mans hand
I rest, deep, setting upon your brow
With yesterdays eternal vow
I am the Phantom of a distant light
Shadows darkened with blissful fright
The flower of life dooming
The fragrance of death blooming
I am the truth of all lies
The hopes of all sighs
I am the angel who bares a horn
The heartbeat, the breath of the unborn
I am beauty to the eyes of the blind
The insanity of an ingenious mind
I am the friend to hostility
The pain off all tranquillity
I am the corfin to your life
The blade of your knife
I am the Phantom of a distant light
I am the glory of the dark of night
Khristina Lupinacci 1994

"Beckoning In Search of Reckoning" 1996

"Beckoning In Search of Reckoning"


Vacant hearted within the realm of my minds home

A fierce awakening ignites my brain to roam

The train door closes, and they come beckoning

Knocking on the chamber door in search of reckoning

Bemoans the grim phantasm of lurid remorse

Decaying war painted walls shed fading moss

Shaking today the skin of yesterdays halls

Flaking dismay and sin as destiny calls


Like sugar in tea, dissolving the pain of history

Disrobing the haunting curse of unfaced mystery

Rouge colored fragments peel and surrender

Carpeting the ground plaguing those who remember

Like lifes recipe, raspberry covered guilt

Every flower deserves the chance to wilt

We preserve the shadows of antique lands

So to see ourselves within ghostly hands

Madness manifests suffocating within the walls

We heed the melancholy screams as insanity calls

Echoing to the parade of marching shadows in white

Whispering secrets to black eyed angels in flight

Merciful wings stir an unrest of self branded humility

The mind spins the revolving doors of hollows futility

Stripped naked in the absence of eternal light

Comes the dawning of ancestral reflection tonight

I ask the vision within the mirror " Are We Happy Yet ?

And she replies with ghostly blackened eyes " Have we met ?

Khristina Lupinacci 1996

Initiative

When one is trying to do something beyond his known powers it is useless to seek the approval of friends. Friends are at their best in moments of defeat. Henry Miller

No army can withstand the strength of an idea whose time has come. Victor Hugo

Experientia docet

Experientia docet~ Experience is the best teacher!

Shades of Beauty

Beauty is not always visual.

I heard beauty today.

I listened in to the gentle loving voice of a young mother describing her own childhood memories of time shared at the very same duck pond with her own Mother as a young child. The little girl all of 4, blonde pigtails curled up in a swirl, dressed in her eyelet white skirt, pink sandals & bubblegum pink sweater, listened to the tale with such eagerness, as though a prophet was speaking.

Did your Mommy like ducks? she asked. She loved ducks the Mother replied. " I love ducks too"! she smiled. The young Mother leaned down & kissed her daughters head & said " I know you do sweetie".

A quiet still....they both seemed to be contemplating, dreaming, imagining, wondering off into the powder blue skies....when the little girl with a loving daughters soft tone asked .. "Do they have ducks in heaven Mommy?" I didn't see the tears, but I saw the young Mother let go of her daughter's hand for a brief moment to wipe her eyes & face. She rekindled the hand clasping & looked down to her daughter & said " Yes baby" yes!

The little girl nodded & smiled comforted by the thought.

Lifes Blueprint

Within the human gene pool there are dangers lurking beneath the surface, disease genes that can damage or destroy all hope of an ordinary life.

I met a woman the other day, a breast cancer survivor, her daughter has colon cancer, her son has lung cancer, she lost her Mother to Ovarian Cancer, her Father to Colon Cancer, her Grandmother to Breast Cancer, her sister was just diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer. She said cancer has taken the lives of most of her family members in the last 4 generations. She cried & then apologized for crying, I was without words. I stood with a parched tongue unable to console her with a kind & understanding word. What do you say? What does one say to another human being who is surrounded by the constant and chronic loss of loved ones? I’m sorry, doesn’t fit the wound.

Cancer is in deed generational, an unfortunate tapestry in the lineage of many families. "There's a saying that genetics load the gun, but it's the environment that pulls the trigger”. Over 1 Million people get cancer every year. Why us?

Love

and so the journey continues.............

11:11 Make a Wish!

Explore

Permanence

Moving beyond Cancer

Conveyor belt

In blows “the wind of change”

The deed is everything, the glory naught. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe