Tuesday, April 26, 2005

the roses...

Spring has always been my favorite time of year. Everything is fresh and new. The bulbs that have been sleeping in the ground all winter burst forth with a rainbow of color. My beloved rose garden wakes up. The tender dark green leaves giving proof of life.

I hadn't ventured to the rose garden yet this year. I finally did that today. There I saw the rose bush that my mother planted thirty-five years ago. After a cold, harsh winter, it is thriving. Literally thousands of new leaves and many new shoots. Soon it will be covered in beautiful, fragrant red blooms.

I stood in the garden and cried. Not tears of sadness, but of joy.

My mother is still with me and plans to be for many more years. Her rose bush is proof that after she leaves this earth, whenever that may be, she will live on. Not only in the roses- she is in my heart, my soul, my very being...


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(written September of 2005) I have learned much in the last nine months. I have read that ovarian cancer whispers. I say it screams. It just needs someone to listen. The American Cancer Society statistics for ovarian cancer estimate that there will be 22,220 new cases and 16,210 deaths in 2005. This is a death rate FOUR TIMES that of breast cancer.Almost 70 percent of women with the common epithelial ovarian cancer are not diagnosed until the disease is advanced in stage. The 5-year survival rate for these women is only 15 to 20 percent. This is unacceptable. Women need to be made more aware of the symptoms, and doctors need to listen to their patients. Especially when the patient tells them that they fear they have ovca, as my mother did for almost a year before she was finally diagnosed. It’s so sad and senseless when a woman knows the symptoms but can’t get anyone to listen to what she is saying.