Pink fountains

The sun was rising over downtown Jackson as I groggily walked toward my office.  I looked over at Thalia Mara Hall’s fountains and noticed they were pink. My first (and natural) assumption was that something was awry with Jackson’s drinking water again. But then I remembered it’s October. And October is Breast Cancer Awareness month.

A month for Breast Cancer Awareness has always seemed silly to me. Not because I don’t honor the cause. No, it seems silly to me because the disease is so woven into the fabric of my family’s DNA. To me, Breast Cancer Awareness is everyday — not just one month.  My mom’s first cousin (who was like a sister to her) died of the disease.  My dad’s sister is a survivor (she once joked she would show me her cancer scar if I showed her mine — I nearly spit my drink across the floor laughing.). And my mom is a heroic survivor of the disease.  Mom had it back in the 70’s. That was before pink fountains, pink ribbons and pink everything else. That was before support groups.  That’s why I admire my mom so much.  Her battle left a mark on her and all of us. And because of that mark, I pray every night my sisters (and I) don’t have to face the monster.

Yesterday I saw a friend who’s battling a particularly aggressive form of the disease.  She has lost her hair and has been struggling through numerous chemo treatments.  And her battle has just begun. She will have more surgery and radiation, too.  Her kids are about the age I was when mom had her cancer. As I stood there talking to her and her husband, I admired both of them both for their strength.  Her strength to fight. His strength in supporting her and the family.  Over the years, the golden thread I’ve discovered in cancer survivors is an overwhelming reason to live.  I saw that will in her eyes yesterday.

I watched the pink fountains for a minute. I watched the pulsing water and thought about an interview I recently conducted with Dr. Lucio Miele, the Director of the UMC Cancer Center. He talked about how primitive the understanding of the disease was back in the 1970’s compared to what it is now.  How supercomputers, DNA and other technological breakthroughs are rapidly propelling us toward a cure.  I watched the pink fountains dance in the wind and imagined a day when they could be turned off.  I imaged VC day (Victory over Cancer).  I thought of my mom, my aunt, my cousin and my friend.  As I turned around and walked toward work, the eastern sky was turning pink with the rising sun. I hoped it was a good sign.