Ten years ago, I sat on a couch, watching television. My mother's frail hand in mine. Tears streaming down her face. Her pride unaffected by her disease, but her inability to travel devastated her. Two hundred miles away, a skinny, naive young man walked with others toward their future. Caps flew and celebrations began. The pain of missing this event hit her hard, but it was this very event that kept her going. Cancer would kill her, but it would not win. She spoke often about thus day, but never imagined it would be spent so far away. "Six months," the emotionless doctor said. "Six months, my ass," she replied. Four years later, as my brother flipped his tassel and his cap flew in the air, she cried. The pain of cancer and of despair could not compete with her pride. Much like O'Henry's Last Leaf, this ceremony extended her life and just like that tossed cap, starting it's decent, she to started to tumble. Her goal had been achieved and a giant middle finger was directed at this disease. Ten years later, I feel sorrow for that day she missed, but even greater for the son who couldn't fathom how proud his mother was. So proud, she cheated death for so long. Just for him.
Most people I know do not care about knowing the truth or facts, they only care about being the one who passes along information. I wonder if I could privately ask people why they use social media (honestly), what their reason would be. I don't think people without a sense of humor, realize how much fun the world can be. Even during the hard times. So many of us spend time thinking of mistakes and regrets, but if we really think about it, we've probably dodged more bullets than missed boats. You know when you sit by yourself reading, sipping some coffee or tea and you don't think about anything, but what you're doing? That!
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