This morning when I read an article in the New York Times, in the Business section,
I thought, good for you, Nancy G. Brinker,
wish I had a sister like you.

I have heard people say, "I'm SO sick of seeing these pink ribbons every October."
I have thought, try having breast cancer or hearing the stories of those who have lived to tell.
Go to the graveyard and pause at the grave of a 22 year old daughter,
whose parents must live on, never the same.
Stage Four, diagnosed only because of back pain playing tennis at college.
Double mastectomy, dead less than a year later.
Try going to a funeral like that,
where all her school projects from the same schools my children attended were on display.
Where her flute lay silent, her hand made Mother's Day gifts from preschool had been saved,
taken out of a box.
Listen to her younger brother deliver the eulogy, in his Marine Corps dress uniform,
because his parents cannot speak, nor can the pastor, with daughters close to the same age.

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