Cancer.
It's a curse.
It turns people's lives upside down and ruins their relationships.
Brynne Foster is a perfect example.
After being diagnosed with leukemia at age 17, Brynne's family struggles to accept her decision of refusing chemotherapy...
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"Wow, look at this one," Blake exclaims as he picks up a pink and white spotted cone shell. His eyes travel up and down the pattern as he closely examines the state of its shape.
I smile at his discovery as I walk down the long beach. The sand in between my toes is stimulating for my sense of touch. Breathing in the salty air, I sigh at the sight of another marvelous sunset.
I've seen a lot of these recently.
The sky looks painted with careful strokes of pink and orange, shining red light onto the shore. Along the sky, a couple of clouds remain, casting spastic shadows onto the mirage of the ocean.
It's beautiful.
Blake is a couple of steps in front of me, searching for the hidden shells along the shoreline. His long grey sweatpants are at his ankles, and his sweatshirt sleeves are rolled up. He almost looks like a little kid hunting for treasure. I smile at his focused expressions. He is taking this shell-hunting business very seriously. The excitement in his eyes is something that I haven't seen in a long time.
A small wave hits my feet, and I hold my breath.
I wish I could enjoy this beautiful scenery more, but my side is killing me. With every step I take, I feel like my stitches are stretching.
God, I hope this doesn't mean anything bad.
The bucket in my hand begins to shake as my hands grow clammy.
"Oh, wow! Do you see this, Brynne?" Blake excites while picking up a baby blue shell. He runs over to drop it in my bucket and notices the shaking.
"What's wrong?" He concerns while examining me with anxious eyes.
"Nothing," I give him the bucket, "I'm just tired of holding this; it's getting heavy from all the shells you've collected."
He scrunches his eyebrows while taking the bucket from my unsteady hands.
"Do you not want to walk anymore? We can go back to the car if you're tired," He offers, placing his heavy hand on my shoulder.
I quietly wince at the pressure and shake my head.
"I'm alright. Maybe we can sit for a second?"
I need a minute to breathe, and then I'll be alright, I confidently promise myself.
He immediately nods his head and takes the small backpack off my shoulders. He unzips the large pocket and pulls out an orange beach towel.
Lying it down, he takes my hand to help me sit.
I groan internally as my side sores. Blake can tell that there is something wrong because he has his eyes constantly glued to me.
"What a beautiful view," I say to get his attention off my discomfort.
