When I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2024, my first thoughts were not about treatment plans or prognosis. They were about my children.

As a single mother, I had long grown accustomed to carrying responsibility and placing myself last. Like so many parents raising children on their own, I managed the schedules, solved the crises, celebrated the milestones, and handled the countless invisible tasks that keep a family moving forward. Independence felt less like a choice than a necessity.

Breast cancer disrupted that illusion.

Suddenly, I faced questions no amount of preparation could answer alone. Who would help with school pickups when I was exhausted? Who would sit with my children when fear felt too big for words? How would we navigate the uncertainty that arrived with every new doctor's appointment?

What carried me through was not self-sufficiency. It was my tribe. My family. My community.

'The wound is the place where the Light enters you'

Friends filled my freezer with meals and left post-surgery necessities on my doorstep. Neighbors cleared snow from my porch. Family........

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