Cancer sucks. In 2013, there were 66,610 new cancer cases in Ohio alone, according to Cancer.org. It touches our lives and tears holes in our hearts. We all know someone affected. Everyone has a harrowing tale that begins and ends with cancer.

My own cancer story begins with my mother, Nancy Esposito. I was in the sixth grade when she was diagnosed. My first encounter with the deadly disease was viewed through the veil of childhood innocence. The whole experience is an unstable memory that is even further blurred with the passing of time.

For much of my adult life, my mother was not my mom. She was not the lady who wore fancy hats to church, sang in the choir, and had a circle of friends larger than most. Not anymore. For most of my adult life, my mother was more the child, tended to by family or nurse’s aides. She had a wheelchair and wore a terry cloth bib to protect her clothes when she ate.

The cancer did not take my mother’s body, but it did capture her mind. My mother passed away in 2006. She lived 20 years after her diagnosis. Some would call that lucky. I don’t. But I suppose some people would. Some victims of cancer lose their fight quickly. Too quickly.

My cancer story is about my mother. But I know a friend of a friend who lost her daughter to the disease. Her little 8-year-old baby girl, who loved horses, rainbow socks, and The Last Unicorn. Left behind on this earth are her parents and brothers, including her twin brother.

I am so very proud of my daughter, who began her cancer story not with a tale of diagnosis and treatments, but of a gift of a bandana, first to the little 8-year-old girl who went on to heaven, and then to cancer patients who have lost their hair.

The Bandanas For Cancer fundraising event that was held Aug. 8 and 9 went very well. We raised about $200 and received many beautiful bandanas, which we will be donating to area hospitals for cancer patients. I wanted to thank everyone who stopped by, played the raffle, or bought a stuffed animal, with special thanks to Ray and the Italian Fraternal Home in Girard for their generous donations.

Another tale about cancer involves a girl that I graduated with from Liberty High School. Heather Hoffman-Blois’s cancer story isn’t about her parent or her child. It is about malignant peritoneal mesothelioma. It is about fighting a fight you aren’t prepared for and leaving this world too soon. It is about saying goodbye to a husband and daughter and knowing you cannot be there to help them mourn.

On April 29, Heather left this world. She was 40 years old. She was a cheerleader. She was a snowboarder. She was always smiling, always hugging. Heather loved the snow and worked at the ski resort for easy access to the powder.

It wouldn’t surprise me if it suddenly started to snow on Aug. 31. A group of Heather’s friends, myself included, will be gathering at Churchill Park on Belmont Avenue at 1 p.m. to celebrate her life. We will be having a picnic-style lunch and a tree dedication.

Heather’s husband, Curt, and daughter, Stori, will be there as well as a large portion of Liberty School’s class of ’91. Join us to honor Heather and tell your cancer story.

Harley is a Girard resident. Email her at editorial@tribtoday.com.