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A series of markers, dates, finish lines and moments in time

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My life has become a series of markers, dates, finish lines, and moments in time.

The days no longer bleed into each other, but rather stand out, waiting to be counted, hoping to be acknowledged, and eager to be added to my list of memories, hardships, challenges, and victories.

The list is growing because I need it to, because I want it to, because I am not sure I remember how to live without the acknowledgment of what was and what is.

And so I honor, I remember, I celebrate and I mourn these makers, these dates, these finish lines.

The date I was told I have cancer.
The date I was told there was no sign of disease.
The date I was told I was infertile.
The date I had my eggs extracted.
The date I started treatment.
The date I finished treatment.
The date I thought I was going to die.
The date I knew I was going to live.
The date I entered the hospital for the first time.
The date I left the hospital for the last time.
The date I shared my story with the world.
The date I felt I had lost my voice.
The date when I could do the running man and the roger rabbit.
The date when all I could do was the twist.
The date when I was able to run for 13.1 miles.
The date when I was unable to climb a flight of stairs.
The date when I returned to work.
The date when I couldn't remember where I lived.
The date I started to accept and embrace this new self.
The date when I let myself mourn my former self.
The date my eyebrows mysteriously grew back.
The date when I decided to shave my head.
The date when I found refuge in running.
The date when I nearly passed out after walking a block.
The date when my white blood count was 0.0.
The date my blood count was 8.1.
The date when I raised $18,000 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.
The date when I was billed $18,000 for a CT Scan.
The date when my toes reconnected with sand.
The date when I was unable to wiggle my toes.
The date when I felt grounded and still.
The date when I finally was able to take flight.
The date when I fell out of love.
The date where I found love again.
The date where I felt everything had been taken and the date where I felt everything had been found.

As I continue to choose to be surrounded by markers, by dates, by finish lines and by moments in time, I am reminded that it is the acknowledgment of these events, it is the list that keeps on growing, and it is the experiences of what was and what is that reminds me that I am here, that I am alive, that I am present and that I am ready for what is and what will be.

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