#PostRevisited | It's More than a Month.... More than a Ritual

#PostRevisited | It's More than a Month.... More than a Ritual

The day was October 11th, and the time had finally come. The American Cancer Society’s “Making Strides Against Breast Cancer” walk was here. The walk I dreaded taking every year was now here. Usually, I have a team of friends taking this journey with me. This year, I took that walk alone. I parked my car and began to take that journey. With headphones and my playlist blaring gospel artists such as Da Truth, Canton Jones, Group 1 Crew, Kierra Sheard, 21:03, Willie “P-Dub” Moore and more, the current of the sea of pink began to get stronger and stronger. As I turned the corner, the feeling immediately got overwhelming, my chest got tight and my eyes welled up with tears.

Breast cancer awareness is not just an annual month of awareness for me. It’s something I live with on a daily basis. At the age of 13, I lost my mom to this dreaded disease. Who wants to experience that at the age of 13? Imagine having to ask your 6-year-old brother, if he knew where mommy was. I am 32 and a day doesn’t go by that I don’t miss my mother.

This year, taking that walk was one of the hardest moments of my life. Known as a social butterfly and PR chic, who always has a crew with her, I had to endure it alone until I reached my family. The walk for an average person would have been a hop, skip and a jump. At that very moment, I felt like it was a mile long. After arriving at my brother, now 24, I fell into his arms and cried my eyes out. I thought to myself, I am the encouraging one. I am the strong one, but at this one time in my life, I had a breakdown—I had officially become weak.

October is more than just a month of awareness or sporting the cutest pink shirt. The past 19 years have been some of the most rewarding, yet trying years of my life. Looking back, I could have lost my mind, been strung out on drugs or the mother of someone’s three babies. If it wasn’t for the grace of God, my awesome grandparents, stepdad, brothers and uncles and aunts, I would not.. I could not have made it.

With every step that I take, every accomplishment that I have made thus far, I strive to not only make God proud but, my mom even prouder. My mother was a woman of excellence. Her heart for God was shown through every action she took. Even at a young age, I knew what it was like to have a REAL relationship with God because of her. The epitome of strength, the pillar of spunk, a true example of a Proverbs 31 woman. Mom was the feistiest, singer, praiser and fashionista you would ever meet. Unfortunately, the fashionista gene didn’t get passed on to me. My younger brother has that on lock! Truly her legacy lives on through our family.

Did you know that commonly diagnosed diseases among African American’s? Breast cancer has no age limit. My mom passed away at the tender age of 33. As I walk into my 33rd birthday in March of 2015, I go in with expectancy. Knowing that God is a healer and a cure will be found soon

Don’t allow it to be another year that goes by that you haven’t  showcased your support for breast cancer. Don’t let it be an every October ritual. Rocking pink is not just a sign of awareness or the latest trend for millennials. It’s a daily reminder that God is a healer and my mom affected by this horrible disease received her ultimate healing. So, even though I was sad, I cried tears of joy as well.. on that day, I took that walk alone.

written by: T. Marie, 2014

Donna's Story: He took everything out on us…

Donna's Story: He took everything out on us…

... With his Words

... With his Words

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