525,600 minutes.

August 10th, 2012.

The day my world was shattered.

We sat in that stupid fucking waiting room at the Hilman center in Pittsburgh for what seemed like hours. I looked around at a room full of people who were bonded by a horrible disease and wondered if I would soon be one of them. We had spent almost two weeks waiting for biopsy results, hoping it would just be a bump in the road for my free spirited momma. Convincing ourselves that she knew something the rest of us didn't when she'd say "we're going to kick Beulah's ass." I remember thinking it was the only outcome, because people always told my mom she'd outlive everyone. She walked into that doctor's office active, healthy, and full of life and walked out a cancer patient with approximately one year left to live, "on a bell curve."

And so here we are, exactly one year later. I hear my mom's sweet, happy voice and for a split second, I can almost forget that physically and mentally, she's almost just the shell of the person she once was. I didn't know she'd fade away pieces at a time. But looking back, there are a few rather significant things I didn't know that I've learned over the last 525,600 minutes.

I've realized that your true support system will shine through on the darkest days, and everyone else never really mattered anyway. I've learned that people love me and love us more than they can put into words, and it means more to me than I in turn can put into words. But if I could choose a word that would sum it all up, I would choose "banana." Because it's fun to type.

I've realized that the most important person for me to be in this life is myself. If people can't accept it, tough shiitake mushrooms. Every day, when I look in the mirror, I want to try to be more like the person my mom has always seen when she's looked at me. Because my mom has always made me feel like a hero, and the person I am in this life is someone who wears a cape and their underwear on the outside of their pants.

I've realized that what I thought was important, in the grand scheme of things, really isn't. Hitches without jackstands? Pedestrians crossing the street when it's not really their turn? Dead hookers wearing winter formal dresses? Borrowed latex gloves? Aerosol cans not properly disposed of? None of it really matters....except maybe the aerosol cans if exposed to a flame.

I've realized how much my parents love my brother and me. They love us enough to let us build amusement parks in the backyard, to graffiti our bedroom and basement walls, to make multiple stops on a road trip just because one of us has a shy bladder, and to take care of not just us when we are sick, but also each other. I know what loyalty is because of them, and I hope that I'm able to show it to others as well as they have shown it to us.

I've realized that I'm stronger than I ever realized. I'm not sure if it's because I've been lifting the 5 lb dumb bells or if it's because my muscles are exercised when I give bone-crushing hugs, but I never would have imagined I could have made it through this year still standing.

To everyone that's been with me and with us on this road thus far, I don't think "thank you" even really sums it up. Your support has meant everything to me and to my family. As the road starts to get bumpy and it becomes harder to steer, I know I have the best people sitting next to me in the passenger seat.

For the record, the passenger seat in my mind is very spacious and fits all the aforementioned people while still providing an adequate safety belt.