Not a TV Show

Sometimes, I get so busy that I forget to pause and remember just how lucky I am just be able to say, "I am."

So many things, large and small, go into making us who we are and we can't control a lot of those things. We don't get a say about when, where or to whom we're born. I'm fortunate that for me, I lucked out with all three. We do get to make some choices, but really, a lot of those are luck as well. Don't get me wrong, I believe we make our lives what we want them to be and I firmly believe that we always, in every circumstance, have the opportunity and ability to respond to our circumstances however we choose to. 

But the dodged bullets ... where do they come from? Like the time when I was in the car with my dad. We were at the intersection of Backlick and Braddock Roads and the car in front of us was hit violently by a car that ran the red light. Why wasn't that us? I've had thousands of experiences like that.

I bet a lot of people have asked why I got cancer. Why Linda? I've never asked that question. I don't know why and I don't think it matters. For me, the better question is "Why am I a cancer survivor?"  Why did I make it through? Why does Miranda get her mother when so many don't get theirs? I do ask myself that, but maybe not often enough. I should probably ask myself why my dad and I didn't get hit that day back in 1980 too.

At this moment, I'm feeling particularly grateful that I'm able to call myself a cancer survivor. I get so caught up in the activity and work of my "cancer stuff" that I forget that reason I do it at all is because I can and I do it for those who can't either because they aren't with us anymore or they aren't able to for whatever reason. I survived and it's real.It just is. And so am I.