Today marks one year since my sister's bone marrow transplant. For those of you in the know about that sort of thing, it's a pretty big milestone. This weekend she is celebrating with a big group of friends, but sadly I can't be there. If I were, I'd stand up and make this toast:
It was late August 2010 when Sarah called to tell me she had cancer. Acute Myeloid Leukemia, to be precise. She told me what that meant and what her treatment plan was, but I heard it in a blur. One thing she said stuck with me, she assured me that everything would be ok because she had no intention of leaving her children.
She went into chemo and things got worse, but then they got better. She was in remission and went back to her life. Then in January 2014 things got much worse. Cancer was back and she needed more chemo and a bone marrow transplant. She endured those treatments and the side effects so horrendous I wouldn't wish them on anyone. She did it all with quiet grace, and dug deep to come out the other side. Last summer she went through hell fires, and her words still resonated, she would not leave her children. For those boys, she would do it all again, but today we celebrate the fact that she may never have to.
To Sarah, her strength, and her boys.