Dates, markers of time, memories of events. I have so many important ones; February 11th, 1995, February 23rd, 1995, November 3rd, 1995, January 22nd, 2003, February 10th, 2004, September 27th, 2007, and finally August 25th, 2017.
They are all dates about me, yet only the last one really is. All the others are births and deaths, of part of me, but not me. They were more than the last date. But the last one can determine my future, my death. The last one is the hardest to accept because I don’t want to die. I want to live. But I have absolutely no control over it.
The only option is to embrace it, learn from it, be more determined than it, overcome it, and survive. That’s my only option… nothing else matters. August 25th, 2018 will be a celebration.. we will make it so. We will replace something terrible with something so much more worthy and meaningful.
In the meantime, I will remember the dates, the markers of time, the memories that have shaped me to fight this battle that will never let the disease win… because I am still needed, I am still worthy…