A Battle Lost

I am posting this blog today in honor of Brandy. I've never met her. I only know her brother. He is my boss. And because I know him, and his wife, and the kind of people they are, I can only imagine the type of person Brandy was. Brandy died today. At the absurdly young age of 33. How? Two words.

Breast Cancer.

She was officially diagnosed in April. Cancer stole her life in six short months. And she fought the good fight. To the very end. She would have kept fighting too, if the doctors had any further treatments to offer. Brandy was truly fearless in her battle.

Brandy has two children, ages 7 and 4. How on earth do you cope with telling your children you are dying and going to Heaven? That you will not be able to watch their football games or help them get ready for school dances, or watch them get married? That's what we all want to do with our children, isn't it? To have that life cut short is unspeakable. I can not imagine how you deal with that. Except that, you just do. You get through one day, and then the next. Because you don't have a choice. And the best way to honor their mother is to remind those children every day of who their mother was. What she stood for. How much she loved them. And how much they loved her. I have no doubt those children will be told daily.

Her son sat on her lap, simply lifted the oxygen mask and kissed her goodbye on her cracked, dry lips, said he loved her and he would miss her. No tears. No questions. He knows she will be better cared for in Heaven than she every could be here on Earth.

So thank you Brandy, for teaching me, a woman you have never met, to fight the good fight. To never, ever give up. No matter how hard or painful or scary the battle is, to give it everything you've got and fight with courage.

I'm honored to know your story.