My Daughter's Essay

My 15 year old daughter Emily, wrote an essay as part of her admission process to a high school she wants to attend in the fall. She did such a great job summing up her life (and our family's lives) and experiences so beautifully - I am so proud of her. Here is her essay:


I Am From
I am from warm white sand between my toes
To crisp snowflakes melting on my face,
I am from hot southern days running through the sprinklers
With sweet iced tea on the front porch.
I am from warm blue oceans,
To still, reflective ponds.

I am from dime-bouncing tight bed quilts,
To unmade winter comforters,
I am from halé sweet halé,
To cardboard boxes filled with old memories
Soon to be reopened.

I am from crispy fried chicken,
To hot chocolate and bonfires.
I am from warm fresh-baked cookies,
To pastry-chef perfect crème brûllée.

I am from nightly, somber calls from the hospital,
To the rejoicing at the end of the long journey that brought them to me.
I am from the comforting sounds of the ocean,
To the loving protective sound of two dogs barking,
…At a squirrel…
I am from foot-tapping rhythms of the jug-less jug band,
To rocking out in front of millions... in my imagination.

I am from friends and family,
To all that I have done.
I am from my failures and achievements
To my incredible family’s love and support.

I am from all that I am
To all that is to come.

The most important experiences in my life have not been the ones that I have chosen, rather, they have been the ones that have found me. The happiest of these experiences are the result of choices I actively made for myself and subsequently enjoyed. These include things like learning to play the guitar and snowboarding. The more significant, life-changing experiences have not been the result of choices I made or would have wished on anyone, but these have nevertheless had the greatest impact the person I am today. These uninvited experiences include moving from Hawaii to California, from South Carolina to New York, and the diagnosis of cancer in my Dad in 2008, and then in my Mom in 2010.

Moving meant leaving the homes I grew to love and my loyal friends, but it also meant new opportunities. For example, moving from Hawaii to the not so-warm-and-sunny Northern California did not seem desirable; little did I know my passion for horses was to be discovered there. After three years in California I moved to South Carolina where my love for all things equine grew bigger and bigger. When I found out that we would be moving once again, this time to Northern New York I really did not know what to expect, but it did not seem fun to me at all. Although I had grown to know the concept of moving, I felt that this would be the end of my love of horses. I moved in fear of what was to come. But like the past, I fell in love with my house, made amazing loyal friends, and tried new things that you only saw on TV in South Carolina, like snowboarding.

The second and third uninvited, random, life-changing experiences are my Dad’s diagnosis of head and neck cancer in 2008 and my Mom’s diagnosis of a rare bone cancer, Osteosarcoma in 2010. I always thought that people who drank and smoked a lot got cancer. My parents who were living healthy lives were definitely not cancer candidates in my mind – plus who has TWO parents with cancer?

My Dad, a marathoner who never smoked and led a healthy life went to the doctor with a sore throat on a Friday, had surgery on the following Tuesday, and had a diagnosis of throat cancer on a Thursday. He had chemotherapy and radiation for three months. One year to the date of his completing treatment, he ran the Georgia Marathon. My Mom was training for a half-marathon when a sore knee started to slow her down. After nine months of misdiagnoses by our local doctor, an MRI was finally ordered. It showed a large lesion below her knee on her tibia. She went to Sloan Kettering for a biopsy on a Tuesday and had the diagnosis of Osteosarcoma on Wednesday. Osteosarcoma is a rare and aggressive bone cancer that mainly occurs in children aged 10-20. After a painful limb-salvage surgery that removed her tibia, she had 10 months of chemotherapy in the Pediatric Ward of Sloan Kettering. She just finished at the end of June. Over the last couple years my parents have shown inspiring courage to each other and to my sisters and I.

These experiences have affected what I know to be real and lasting. I now know that what is real is more than the house you live in and the world you see in your little town. What is lasting is the love you have in your heart. My world has grown, my horizons have broadened because of these uninvited guests of change and sicknesses. What I know for sure is two things, the world is more than the town you live in, and that home is where your love is.

I am from all that I am and all that is to come.