The color pink has brought meaning to my life in several ways. It started when I was 5 and my mom said that I used to tell her that “pink was my life.” while twirling around in a pink polka dot dress. I have always been a dramatic girly girl since day one. The funny thing was my mom did believe that pink was my life. She loved telling that story to me because she just thought it was too funny.

Then I was in high school and I painted my room pink. It was this gorgeous baby pink color (I still love that color) and I had a quilted purple bedspread to match. My high school days were spent either in my room (away from my mom) or out with my friends. My mom was no longer cool and never had any good advice. She advised me to stay away from sex, drugs, alcohol, and other mischievous things that creep up on teenagers, but I didn’t want to listen. My mom wanted to talk but she didn’t have anything interesting to say. She wanted to spend time with me, but I would rather sit within those pink walls and talk to my friends on the phone about the parties I was going to sneak into that weekend.

Later I moved on to college and I got this hot pink twin size bed spread to go in my dorm room. I even had these stupid pink princess crown lights. Like I am in college, why did I think that was cute? With that stupid pink bed room decor came freedom from my mother. Finally, my mother could no longer tell me what to do. She couldn’t make sure I came home on time or lecture me about my friends and alcohol. I could go where ever and do whatever I wanted to do without listening to her.

During college I became pregnant with Grayson. I was scared about telling my mother because she had lectured me my whole life and tried to guide me into making the right decisions, and I made a bad one. I don’t mean that my precious Grayson is a bad decision, it’s just that he wasn’t planned at the right time. But regardless of that, my mom was nervous and excited. She was nervous about me giving birth but excited about being a grandmother to yet another grandchild. She stood by my side and supported me all the way. And at our gender reveal party there was pink and blue decor all over. I wore pink around my belly and my mom wore a pink pin thinking the baby was a girl, but crying in excitement that the baby was going to be a boy.

A month ago I was shopping on a Friday by myself. As I was browsing through the pink section in Victoria Secret staring at a new pink bra, I get a phone call. The phone call was from my parents telling me that my mom found a lump in her breast. The doctor told her that it was Stage 2 breast cancer and she would need a double mysectomy. Staring at those pink bras I just couldn’t shop anymore. Shopping has always been a fun memory that I shared with my mom and I could no longer be there.

This morning I went to a surprise breast cancer party for my mom. As I walked into the party I saw friends and coworkers dressed in pink. I saw a pink table cover and pink flowers. I saw pink lemonade and pink buttons. All the pink was for my mom.

My mom taught me 3 main things in life: 1. Love your Lord. 2. Love your husband and be loyal to him. 3. Love and support your children. My mom supported me through every stage in my life: every pink polka dress, every mean girl at school that made me cry, my eating disorder, my sleeping anxiety, telling her I can’t push anymore during labor, crying while I walked down the isle and through my company Abraidedblonde. She has always believed in me and I believe in her.

Pink is a color but it’s also a symbol. It’s a symbol that my mom and I can hold on to very tight. We can survive this life. We can be strong and we can fight. We no longer fight against each other but fight with each other. We can fight cancer.

Mom if you are reading this (which I am sure you are because you are my biggest fan), you can do this on Friday. You can fight and you can win. You can beat breast cancer for the third time. I will help fight with you.

Your daughter,