Author's Note: I was inspired to write this article from Morgan612's "The Voice of Cancer" series. Her series truly made me think about what others have done for me. In the BBS I have been posting a lot about my father's cancer lately, so don't think this is some "trying to measure up to Morgan612" type of article. The first paragraph of my article is a insight on the last day of school. Enjoy.
It was June 6th, 2008. School had just let out for the summer and I stumbled down the stairs of my school's hallway. I stepped through the double doors and scanned the parking lot with eyes like a lion on its prey. A beeping horn called me. I loved the feeling of the south Florida wind blowing through my hair as I let down the window. The final year of my elementary school days was over. Next year, on August 18th, I would be a middle school girl. I would walk through the same double doors I came out of, and travel amidst the slamming lockers into my sixth grade homeroom. This was a whole new chapter in my book of life . . .
Only until June 9th, 2008 when my father was diagnosed with colon cancer; curable but tragic.