pointing finger

Take Care of Yourself! Blaming and Shaming People with Illnesses

My brother died in 2007. He had a very rare form of cancer. The time between figuring out what was wrong and his death was short – 6 months. And you know what happened most often when I told people about it during that six months? People blamed him. “Have you told him about The China Study? About how eating meat causes cancer?” No. No … Continue reading Take Care of Yourself! Blaming and Shaming People with Illnesses

"You have value because you exist." - Mom

“You have value simply because you exist.”

A few days ago, my mother said something to me that was incredibly powerful in its simplicity: You have value simply because you exist.   At some point, most of us question ourselves, our decisions, our paths, and our progress.  Often, as was the case for me last week, comments and opinions from others lead us to do so.  He’s just trying to make you feel bad … Continue reading “You have value simply because you exist.”


ImageIn my last post about Jonathan, I wondered how I’d handle turning 34.  I talked about how I felt guilty for living past the age he lived.  I expressed fear that I won’t do enough with the extra time I have.  Well, the extra time keeps going – I turned 34 at the end of July.

I try to be as positive as possible about Jonathan, thinking about the good times and being thankful for the time we did get to share.  But it’s just weird to now be in a phase of life he’ll never get to have.  It’s strange, so strange, that his life ended and mine continues.  Age is just a number, but to me, that number now represents the absence of my brother. Continue reading “34”

Living Past 33 and a Half

ImageI feel very guilty about living past the age my brother, Jonathan, lived. He was almost 33 and a half years old when the tragedy of his death occurred. I’m now 33 years and 8 months old. I’m not sure how I’ll handle turning 34.

You know what else I feel? Fear. What if I’m not living my life to its fullest? Am I taking advantage of the time I have, the time that was taken away from him? I’m afraid that I won’t do enough with this extra time I have. And that won’t be fair to him.  Continue reading “Living Past 33 and a Half”