I have a box of things that are important to me. It’s not something I can physically move from place to place but I take it with me wherever I go. I call it my box of cherished things.

One thing I cherished, though you won’t find it in the box, is my home. It’s a different kind of attachment.  I love the space – the location.  I especially enjoy the views from the windows.

But not long ago – in the middle of the night – I realized we had to move.  The new place was only a fraction of the size of my home – but some things must be done so we got on it right away. Two guys appeared out of nowhere and began moving things.  One of them I recognized, the other I did not.  They made great progress getting everything out of the home quickly.  Problem was – we had way too much stuff to cram inside a small apartment and there were these two over-sized stuff animals that belonged to my daughter – a giraffe and a lion.  They were so tall you could practically walk in between their legs without touching their bodies.  I told the movers to get rid of the lion to help save space – and they did.  During the move my daughter showed up – like the two movers – out of nowhere.  I broke the news that we had to throw away the lion but from the sound of her voice I could tell she was not happy about it.  The last thing I wanted to do was upset her so I immediately looked at one of the movers and he read my mind – the lion reappeared!

As we moved into the apartment I noticed some things were down right filthy.  I told my daughter to be careful because things needed to be cleaned.  She said something and then began wiping down a table.  There were other problems too – no bulbs in the light fixtures – one toilet was nasty and there were no curtains.  In fact – there was only one view from one window.  It was in my daughter’s room – and looking through it put me practically inside the apartment next door.  I think two ladies were living in that unit and one of them told me we would like it there.

So many things – or should I say – thoughts – happened in this brief moment of time.  Like dreams do – they go through your mind in an instant.  Some of my dreams I remember – some I don’t – but I’m glad I remembered this one.  It provided one of those rare visits from my daughter.  She’s been gone for five years and in the first few visits I only saw her smiling face.  But now in my dreams I also hear her voice.

These dreams are just that – dreams – I don’t analyze them.  I just enjoy them for what they are. They don’t happen often – so it’s gonna be a while before she returns.  So for now I’m tucking this one away in my box of cherished things.

Today was a good day for a couple of reasons!

I met with an attorney to finally put the finishing touches on turning Donna Terrell’s Yoga Warriors Fighting Colon Cancer into a 501(c)(3) non profit organization.  It not only registers us with the Federal Government but it gives us tax-exempt status and allows donations to be tax-deductible.  It’s a step I’ve been wanting to take for a long time and now it’s done.  This organization means a lot to me because it’s inspired my daughter Queah who died from colon cancer in 2011 and I’ve discovered our mission of raising awareness about colon and other cancers is really working.  A few months back a woman told me the awareness generated from Yoga Warriors saved her life.  After putting it off for nearly a year, one of my stories that aired on Fox16 News inspired her to get a colonoscopy.  Good thing she did – because the doctor discovered over a hundred pre-cancerous polyps in her colon and she was told they would certainly turn into cancer.  Today she’s alive and cancer free.  We’ve also provided free liquid nutrition to many cancer survivors – some who’ve desperately needed it but was having difficulty covering the cost.

Another thing that made today such a good day was meeting a lady at the nail salon.  I have a horrible memory but I think she said her name was Barbara so let’s go with that.  While I was sitting in a chair waiting for a nail tech she walked over to me and introduced herself.  She said back in 2010 when she was a nursing student she remembered Queah being one of her patients.  She told me how she though my daughter was delightful.  Yes, delightful was the word she used.  As we were talking it all began to click and I actually remembered her – which is strange since I’m not even sure if I got her name right.   It’s also amazing considering how many nurses attended to my daughter over the course of her illness.  But I remember Barbara because she was a non-traditional student and I remembered thinking at the time what was the driving force to make her to go back to school and start a new career – and the challenges she must have been facing at the time.  I remember she walk into Queah’s hospital room with a much younger nurse and I would have assumed she was the nurse and the younger woman was the student.  As I relived those moments of meeting her it also allowed me to relive those precious moments with Queah during that time. I always welcome that.

I’m so glad Barbara didn’t hesitate to come over and talk to me about my daughter.  Some people don’t like to bring it up because they think it’s too painful for me to talk about. But not Barbara – she could tell, even as tears swelled in my eyes while we reminisced, I was so grateful for this unexpected and precious time.