Blessed & Humbled by First Descents Love

"This weekend isn't about the fancy ball, or the dress, or the over the top stilettos and larger than life hat. It's about the way it feels to be surrounded by some of the most important and influential people in my life. It's the feeling of gratitude that comes from sharing space with incredible human beings who love one another unconditionally. This is First Descents. (This is First Descents Out Living It: The Dressy Version). This is the one family dinner that you wouldn't dare to miss...especially with Brad Ludden sitting at the head of the table. This is FD LOVE." ~Beth Silverman

I am exited to be in Vail this weekend for the Annual First Descents Ball. Yes, it is a ball, but it is so much more than that. If you have attended a First Descents camp, you know how life changing it is. At the ball this weekend, we gather to be thankful for the life we continue to be able to live and spread the love that has been given to us by the First Descents family.

More pictures to come!

If you are a young adult (or you know someone who is) between the ages of 18 & 39, and you have ever heard the words "You have cancer," you should apply to attend a free week-long adventure therapy trip with First Descents. To apply, visit the First Descents site and click on the Apply Now button. You won't regret it!

Lessons from My Father

My father passed away on January 24, 2012. We had a Celebration of Life for him last night at the university music school where he taught computer music composition since 1982. 

At the Celebration of Life, I said shared these thoughts about my dad:

Since my dad passed away, we’ve received countless messages about him, his life, and his legacy as a musician, artist and teacher.  We’ve heard him described with the words ‘genius,’ ‘mentor,’ ‘iconoclast,’ and ‘maverick,’ all of which I think are true, but probably would have made him slightly uncomfortable. To me, of course, he was just my dad. However, there is no doubt that his commitment to his work and the creative process was absolute. Growing up, I remember that many times, it consumed him.

He gave his energy to his students and his profession, but he also gave tremendous energy to his family. This energy he gave came to me in the form of some of my most important life lessons. If you asked my dad what these important lessons were, he would probably say it was that he taught me how to be a good liberal, and not to care what the establishment thinks, but that doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface.

His relentless pursuit to cut through all the bullshit & noise in this world taught me not just to listen more and speak less, but to truly hear people, music and my own inner voice. To me, he was a living example that the best things in life are not things, but experiences both positive and negative. Through his experiences, he showed me the value of creativity, humility, and self-reflection.

My dad and I had a special knack at getting under each other’s skin. Because we frequently waged verbal battles of epic proportion, he taught me how to fight only for what really matters, to compromise when there is one to be had, and to never forget to say I love you.

At times in my life when I would express doubts in my abilities as a writer or a photographer, he would tell me that I am a damn professional. He taught me, as he did so many in his life that the reward for following your passion truly outweighs the price paid for all of the stumbles along the way.

I love you dad!

This is a good place to be

It's been a while since I posted any details about how I am medically. In January, I finished up with 3 years of Zoladex injections (which kept my estrogen low by inducing menopause). About a year ago, I finished up a clinical trial for a pill that targeted cells with HER2 neu receptors. Little by little, my safety blankets (treatment protocols) are being taken away from me. Yes, this is because I am closer and closer to the big 5-year No Evidence of Disease mark. Now, the only thing I do to try to limit any risk of recurrence is take my daily dose of Tamoxifen.

The further away I get from the experience, the easier it is to forget the realizations that diagnosis brought me. I'm struggling a bit because having cancer taught me so much about living. I don't want to forget those feelings and the associated lessons that shook me to my core. Getting cancer is like being instantly given the ability to zoom out from earth. You can suddenly prioritize in new ways given this view from space. I don't want to lose that perspective and get bogged down by being well back on earth

I still see my docs every 6 months for mammo and bloodwork, but I finally reached a place in life after cancer where I don't think daily about having had cancer in some way. Even when I take my Tamoxifen every day, I don't really think about cancer.

This is a good place to be and uncharted territory for me.

I am reaching a place where advocacy is becoming more comfortable for me. Other young women are reaching out to me for perspective when they are diagnosed or find a lump and don't know what to do.

Despite all the sadness from losing my dad 6 weeks ago to cancer, I am feeling more whole than ever on my journey through the abyss that is life after cancer.

This is a good place to be.