The Elephant in the Room is Cancer. Tea is the Relief Conversation Provides.



by Kris Riley February 21, 2024

We have a tree called Hope. The anniversary of Matt’s diagnosis is a painful day for us; there was no happiness, so we do not celebrate it. Instead, we celebrate the anniversary of his completion of treatment.


Sleeping with My Caregiver

by Anonymous November 9, 2023

Naked and ashamed, I just want to hide. I want to be alone. I don’t want what he wants. I don’t even know who I am anymore.

I lay there hoping this time will be different. This time, I will be more into him. Maybe it won’t hurt, or I won’t bleed. Maybe cancer won’t have the final say.


It Must Be Me

by Maria Kreutinger November 1, 2023

As I lay there screaming into the ground, nothing came out, not even a faint puff of air. I had cried so many tears the day before from anger, frustration, and grief. I let my face just scrape up against the cold ground. It was the only way I could force myself to feel again: frigid ground attempting to wake me up. Waiting for Ashton Kutcher to tap me on the shoulder and exclaim, “YOU’VE BEEN PUNKED!”


The Loneliness of Caregiving

by Suesan Cota August 24, 2023

On the day before my partner Dil was diagnosed, we went water tubing. The day off was a stolen pleasure on a beautiful Monday morning in June and we had been together for about two and a half years. About midway through our float, I capsized, fell into the river, my bathing suit top fell off, and my knees were scraped against the bottom of the river.


The Power of Faith: Overcoming Feelings of Loneliness and Isolation

by Kayla VanBuskirk August 2, 2023

As I reflect on our experience with cancer, I’m reminded of how isolating that season of my life was. Enter the pandemic that forced us into physical isolation.


Dear Cancer, Do You Remember Me?

by Liz Kennish June 20, 2023

Dear Cancer,

I wish I could start with, “Hello old friend, and thank you for all the ways you’ve shaped my growth,” as I have written before, but today that feels like a lie. One thing I’ve lost the ability to do is lie to protect you. Today I am still grieving and angry. Today I can’t see past all you have taken from me.

Can you even remember me? You took my mother in ‘88 when I was just a kid, and yet I thanked you. I thought my debt had been paid. You taught me to love every day, not just on good days, and I thanked you.


Dear Cancer, You Taught Me Loss and Light

by Nicci Scimone May 31, 2023

Dear Cancer,

For a long time, I thought you only came into other people’s homes. You certainly would never enter mine and wreak havoc. Until you did. When I was fifteen you filled my home and apparently my dad’s bloodstream as well. Leukemia. When we told people the news they would cry, and I never understood why. What’s wrong? This won’t take him down. Do you know my dad? He is as tough as nails!


Facing the Unseen Challenges of Survivorship with Positivity

by Laura DeKraker Lang-Ree April 13, 2023

My daughter, Cecilia, was diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia (ALL) at the tender age of three, and just like that, my world (and hers) was turned upside down. In an instant, I became not only her attentive Mama but a ferocious Caregiver—two very different jobs.


Complicated Grief

by Nicole Shedd January 16, 2023

Complicated Grief: When Losing a Parent to Cancer and Parental Alienation Collide

When my husband died from complications of cancer 13 years ago, I endured the relentless waves of grief that young widows and widowers are forced to ride when we lose a partner and the parent to our young children. Not only do we mourn their partnership and all our shared future dreams, but we also mourn the parent our kids have lost, and the significance of that parent/child relationship our children will never get to experience.


A Horrible Nightmare

by Kate Snedeker April 14, 2022

May 24th started like any other regular Sunday morning. I had just returned from a trip and was catching up with my dad, stepmom, and younger sister, telling stories while drinking a cup of coffee. Our light and giggly conversations about the weather and our dinner plans for that night quickly took a turn as I heard the words, “There is something we have to tell you.”