Well, here we are again....October. Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Ever since Fran first got sick Breast Cancer Awareness has became my "thing". I've helped raise money, I have several pink ribbon shirts and jewelry items, I buy things because they promise to donate a portion of my purchase to the Susan G. Komen Foundation. I get it. I'm there. And I'm all for helping women get passed feeling embarrassed and start feeling themselves up (because, let's face it ladies, YOU are the person who knows your girls the best!) and get those lumps looked at and get those boobs flattened into pancakes during mammograms. The more we raise awareness the more future generations will stay on top of it, catch it early, and do what it takes to beat this horrible, horrible disease.
But.....MY friend did all that. She found the lump, she did the chemo, she got the mastectomy, she did it ALL. And she died ANYWAY. All the pink in the world didn't save MY friend. So now that we find ourselves once again in October, Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and I see pink everywhere I can't help it that apparently the next step in my grieving process is bitterness.
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