Race for the cure

    On June 2, 2011 my family and friends set out for a morning at Cal Expo. Surrounded by thousands of people my mom, sister, and I intertwined arms to take a picture.  With people in the around we posed in a casual passions getting ready for the day ahead of us; it was going to be a long one. Dressed in pink to support my mother and millions of men and women fighting this battle every day. My mom and I wore pink foam crowns for what seemed like another pink item to wear, But thinking about it now it could represent so much more.
    With everything going on around us  it seemed so hard to concentrate on something other than my mom and what she was now facing. Having already  completed one round of chemo her hair was falling out fast, almost in chucks. This would soon put heavy presser for my family and I. We are soon to get the never ending stares and/or comments that are unnecessary. I will never forget telling myself to let it go, people are just curious, just keep your lips sealed tight, don't say anything you will regret. But why I would always wonder, she has no hair, no boobs, just simply put it together. Yes she does have cancer so stop staring, it's really rude. Even though I didn't see every stare, I knew my mom did; I can't imagine what she had to go through.
    Seeing all these men and women walking around wearing their survivor shirts made me sad but also gave me a little bit of a smile. I knew everything was going to be okay, but I always had that little voice in the back of my head questioning everything over and over .It was really hard going through everything that happened and for half the time I dint have my sister there to help me. Whale I was here at home, my sister was at collage doing this all alone without friends and family by her side. I would go to school put on a happy face and act like everything was okay. It really wasn't though, the littlest things would piss me of and that was it I would start balling and then my mind would race to so many different things and by the time I stopped crying I had no idea what I was crying about. I had to grow up so fast it seemed like and I really wasn't ready for that quiet yet. Having to give up certain  things or seeing my mom laying in the couch helpless, it hurt. Even thought I knew she tried her best to be strong I knew she was having a horrific time with this whole thing.
    The week she had treatments were the worst. She would come home exhausted like I have never seen before. I hated being at her treatments, literally seeing poison being put into my mom. She was my mom she wasn't supposed to be weak. She fought everyday to make sure my brother and I didn't have to see her so down, but being older and understanding more I could see the pain in her face. Not once throughout this entire experience did I see my mom break down and cry.
    This picture represent so much more than just one walk. this brings back the memories of my mom's journey through breast cancer. She has scares reminding her of it every day. She is the strongest women I know. My mom is my hero and I will forever strive to be just like her.