Warrior Women

Author unknown

You join an army of wounded women, who wear pretty clothes that conceal the scars and the pain and who summon brave smiles to camouflage anxiety. We each share a touching, intimate memory of a day that changed our lives forever.

A memory of a morning shower when we touched our breasts and cried. A long last look in the mirror, as we said good-bye. Good-bye to vanity. Good-bye to self pity. We haven't the time. We measure life in moments, and momentum.

We are the meaning of lifelong friends. Bosom buddies gathering strength from one another. We are courageous. We are proud. A circle of women, we span the globe, and we have touched eternity.

There is a word that strikes fear in our hearts--the word is recurrence. We try endlessly to search the reason. We valiantly fight to find the cure. We do so for daughters, granddaughters and for friends and ourselves.

We do so for the women who have gone before us. With each loss we feel tremendous anger. We rage. We taste fear. But with each loss our capacity to love deepens. It grows, it ripens, it blooms.

Each precious moment on this earth is a gift. We will not leave this gift unopened. We will not leave one smile undone. We will not leave one hug forgotten. We will not miss one opportunity to make a difference.

We are Women Warriors. Our casualties are high. The women who have gone before us have lost a battle with breast cancer, but they haven't lost the war.

We honor these women, we feel them, we remember them. We carry them with us, and we made each one a promise. A promise to never again look the other way.

We have breast cancer. We are alive.