The Most Beautifu Women I Have Ever Seen

This year I have met some of the most beautiful women in the world.  Their beauty isn't because their hair or make-up are perfect, or because they are dressed nice.  Its a beauty and strength that emanates from them.  The first that I remember seeing is the week that Taylor was diagnosed.  This woman was in the refreshment room on the pediatric oncology floor of the hospital.  Boosted on her hip was a little girl with blond patchy hair.  She was very swollen from steroids.  Her mom had a worried look in her eyes, she looked tired.  As I watched her I only noticed, that though she seemed exhausted, the love for her child radiated from her.  I saw her several times that week, walking her daughter in the hallway.  I was struck by the strength of the mom.  I was falling apart, and here was this mom whose daughter was obviously going through cancer treatments, and the mom was able to not cry.  She was strong.
Waiting in the clinic, about 4 moms were sitting in the waiting room, all with bald children.  Some of the kids had IV poles beside them.  I look around and each and every mom was staring ahead.  I start to ask them questions.  They have varied answers.  One mom says "Hes terminal... weeks to live... hospice has been coming... His sister is having a hard time with it."  His mom says this all without crying.  I can see though, under the layer of forced strength there is a fear.  She says the words, and knows its going to happen, how will they live without their son?  This mom was wearing a hoodie and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail with hairs coming lose.  She looked very worn out... She was beautiful.  The love for her son could be seen in everything she said.  The forced strength could be seen as she wouldn't allow herself to break down.  She was living each mom in the waiting rooms nightmare.  The moms started talking about their kids, "he has leukemia", "he has relapsed neuroblastoma", "she has an inoperable tumor, she beat it once, its back..."  Tears are beneath the surface, but not allowed.  Their children were sitting there.  They need to be strong for their kids.
Ive seen these beautiful women in the elevators.  One was pushing a teenager that was so sick she couldn't sit up.  The mom stood with beauty and grace.  She was wearing sweatpants, her hair was not done.  Her brow was crinkled in worry.  There was beauty and strength glowing from her eyes.  Another mom was pushing a swollen, bald, junior high aged girl.  I said "My daughter has cancer too" as the elevator was making its assent to floor number four.  The mom asked what kind.  "Neuroblastoma" I say, she says, "Hers is terminal.  There aren't any more options.  But we aren't giving up."  She truly meant it.  They weren't going down without a fight.  Another mom was pushing a young girl to the elevator at the same time as me.  We got in and I held the door for her as she wrestled the wheelchair and IV pole in, she saw me with Taylor and said "Ive been following her on facebook." I ask what her daughter has, "She has bone cancer, it relapsed" As she was saying that I see tears spring into her eyes.  She looks down at her young girl, and I see it again.  Beauty and grace, and a forced strength.  The weary look in the eyes.  The love for her child.
These images have been seared into my memory.  The love of a mom.  The beauty.  Being pushed to the limit.  The helpless feeling.  Watching her child suffer.  Forced strength.
One mom is determined to paint her city gold for her son.  I see ribbons flapping in the wind as I drive through town.  It makes me smile.  She spends hours online, looking for something that will help her sons diagnosis.  I see another mom while Im out.  Her childs life was cut short by cancer.  "Im lost... I cant find who I was before cancer... Im trying not to be angry..." Shes broken.  I see her wrist, and shes wearing several of her sons bracelets.  Shes gorgeous as she talks about her boy.  Another mom attends a head shaving event.  Forty-eight heads shaven and lots of money is raised.  Looking for a cure.  Another attends a 5k.  Her daughter relapsed three times.  They are out of options and her daughter is in clinical trials.  The mom looks like shes about to break.  As she talks there are tears in her eyes.  She doesn't break though.  She doesn't cry.  She becomes strong, because she loves her daughter.  She has to be strong. 
These women are beautiful.  They all fight together.  As long as there is breath, there is hope.  They are tired, they are broken, they are weary.  Their life is full of unanswered questions, they live in fear that their child will lose this battle.
They are strong, because they have to be.
Giving up is not an option.
They are fighting this ugly beast called cancer, with their children.
The love a mom has for her child is one of the most beautiful things in the world.