It courses through me and it defines me. Without it, I die. With it, I spread everything I do throughout the rest of my body, sometimes doing harm and sometimes repairing damage. My blood also has in it things that my parents passed to me.

I learned my softness from my parents. My mother was a quiet woman with a passion for crafts and socializing with close friends. My dad is soft-spoken- a gentleman to his core. My quirky sense of humor flowed straight from my father to me.

My blood forgives. My family is family and for better or for worse, they’re stuck with me just as I’m stuck with them. Mostly I love them, but sometimes the biggest knock-down dragout fights happen with them. Why? Because we know we’ll come back to each other. Our blood begs us to.

My blood also carries a high risk for breast cancer and don’t think that a day goes by where I’m not terrified of living past 41- an age my mother couldn’t beat. I have to be ever cautious and do my due diligence to ensure that I stay safe- and that I take measures to flush out any cancerous cells hiding in my body before it becomes too late. I pray that my blood saves me.

Can you believe how far we’ve come in the blog-off? Last week we lost Tara but eight bloggers are still hanging out and hoping for the prize.


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