After several weeks of hiding and down time, a few weeks ago I made an official announcement to the non profit organization that I founded Indie Music For Life and its two entities Laughs For Life and Indiegrrl. I dropped off of this blog page for a month and am ready to write again. I needed a break. A break to sort through things. To sort through life.

When you or a loved one are diagnosed with cancer it changes your life. Finding out you have cancer takes your breath away and from that point your breath is the most valuable thing to you in your life. Breath and time. Nothing is normal any more. Not your dreams, your nightmares, and not your waking moments.

A personal diagnosis of chronic myloid leukemia in February sent me into a whirlwind of emotions. At that point, all the fear, terror, and stomach knots from my past rounds of cancer came back. Nobody free of cancer could ever appreciate how utterly devastating the news of contracting it could be and the news that it has returned is even more devastating because you know what uphill climbs you must make again. Once you have been diagnosed with cancer you always look over your shoulder for the beast to return. He has caught up with me several times now and so I am speeding up in my race trying to see who is the best long distance runner. Every ache you feel or every little un-ordinary thing that happens with your body sends you into " What If " mode. It is extremely hard living in that mode of thinking but you can't avoid it.

My past struggles with cancer were very private. But then I was not the head of a non profit organization that raises money for cancer research and educational awareness on the powers of music and laughter as therapy for cancer patients. I wasn't the head of the largest networking group of female songwriters known as Indiegrrl that has since become a part of Indie Music for Life. Laughs For Life had not even been thought of yet and now with the direction and help of good friend and comedian Shelly Ryan it is now a reality. I hadn't even started my music career. Having cancer is what lead me to pursue my career in music and chase my dreams. It wasn't until I started working on my CDs that my cancer became really public other than with my close friends and family and then working to set up the Indie Music For Life non profit put it out there even more.

Dori died this past November after a long battle with breast cancer that recurred and spread and ultimately took her from her husband and two young children. I never knew Dori -- she was one of my blog acquaintances -- but I gather from her words and the hundreds of comments that were left on her site that she was full of spirit and courage and grace.

Dori died gracefully at her home, with the assistance of hospice and a loving network of family and friends. She is no longer able to write in her blog -- No Bra Required -- and I miss her abundant strength and humor in the midst of a exhausting journey. But something happened that I think has eased the transition for those who are struggling with the death of a woman much too young to have left this world -- Dori's husband continued to write. He continued Dori's blog for a bit and then started his own personal blog where he shares the peaks and valleys of a life without Dori and with two kids he is raising on his own. Winter to Spring is insightful and touching and sad and happy. It chronicles birthday parties and school plays and Mother's Day too. It reveals feelings and hopes and wishes and sorrows. The tragedy of it all -- the death of Dori -- is devastating. The upside of the tragedy -- the resilience of a family, the lessons learned, the hope for a brighter tomorrow -- keeps me coming back for more. For more of a story that can break my heart and warm my heart all at the same time.