Tory Zellick Author
My mother was the cliché stay-at-home-mom: Dinner was on the table every evening; laundry was washed, folded, and put away twice a week; the refrigerator was forever packed with fresh, healthy food; and the house was always spotless. So when I walked into the living room at 6:30p.m. and saw the place unvacuumed, with dinner nowhere in sight, I immediately knew something was wrong. I sat on the couch next to my mom, who was reading a book. She placed the book in her lap, looked me in the eye, and calmly uttered three words that forever changed my life: "I have cancer."
I was 18 years old.
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