My mom has been my rock and biggest supporter for as long as I can remember. I can confidently say that in my 19 years of life, she has never missed a dance competition, recital, swim meet or science fair. She has always been the ultimate hype woman, and has done everything in her power to help me reach my goals. Some of my most vivid childhood memories are the countless hours we spent together in her Honda Pilot as she drove me to school every morning and to dance every evening. I can't think of any other person who would sit and do 1000 piece puzzles with me or be willing to facetime me for eight hours straight when my roommates left our apartment for the weekend and left me alone. My mom is the glue that holds my family together, the woman who makes quite possibly the best blueberry pancakes in the world, and most importantly she is my best friend.
In July of 2020, my mom was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer. I remember the news hitting me like a brick. At first, the only thing I could feel was disbelief as I wondered how my perfectly healthy mom, who I had never seen so much as cough, could be battling such an aggressive and dangerous disease. After disbelief came the anger. I was mad at the universe for letting something so horrible happen to my family. The process of accepting the fact that my life will never be the same as it was before my mom’s diagnosis has been a long and difficult process, and at times I wonder if it is something I ever will truly accept. While my mom is still here, and she's still my mom, there’s still a feeling of loss that I must battle whenever I think about the ways that we used to spend time together that simply aren’t possible anymore with chemo weakening her body and the constant fear of covid.
While I have always been fairly private with my emotions and any struggles I might be going through, I've come to understand how beneficial it can be to talk to others. Sharing my story with friends has made me realize that even though I might feel that no one else could understand what I am going through, there are so many people who have gone through similar feelings of frustration, loss and grief because of this awful disease. Cancer is an unrelenting, inconsiderate, ugly disease, and it truly affects everyone.
In 2022 I will ride from Texas to Alaska for my mom Dana Marley. Every time I get on my bike will be a reminder that I am fighting alongside my mom and with every other person who has been affected by cancer. If I have only a fraction of the strength that my mom has shown me in the past few months, I am sure I will be able to make it to Alaska while spreading the message of hope, knowledge and charity to the people that I meet along the way.