Apparently the movie In the Land of Women is playing somewhere in the United States -- it was released on April 20 -- but I can't seem to find it in my area. I want to find it, though, because it stars actress Meg Ryan as Sarah Hardwicke, a woman rediscovering herself as she recovers from breast cancer.

Breast cancer is not the main theme in this movie. It's mostly about a successful writer, played by The O.C.'s Adam Brody, who loses a girl, moves to a new town to care for his grandmother, and finds a new girl. Her mom is Sarah Hardwicke.

I learned about this movie just today while reading an interview with Meg Ryan in the May 2007 issue of Redbook.

Joey, my oldest child, is six years old and already quite a clever creator. He can make houses out of sticks and boats out of cardboard boxes. He can build an entire city with toy blocks and crafty cabins with the same Lincoln Logs his daddy used more than 30 years ago. Most recently, Joey has been sharpening his skills with Lego.

Today, while his daddy built him a Lego jet, Joey constructed his own masterpiece. He called it his Cancer Center.

I wasn't around to hear Joey dedicate his building to such an important cause. But I heard about it after the fact when Joey offered me a mini-tour of the structure. I learned that the center has a helicopter landing pad and offices with windows for the employees. I was shown an emergency vehicle with its own system for taking blood from patients, rendering it healthy, and then returning it to the body. And then just as I wanted more -- more details, more specifics, more history on just why he built this cancer center -- Joey's attention moved elsewhere. And so I know nothing more about the cancer center sitting in the playroom of my house.

Cancer is no strange topic for Joey who has been along on my own cancer ride for the past two years -- so perhaps I am the inspiration for his architectural creation. But I suspect the real driving force behind Joey's latest project is the vacant land we passed yesterday. This land is the future site of a new cancer center in our city, and Joey probably heard me talking about the ground breaking ceremony that just took place. Regardless, cancer was on his mind this morning. And while the topic may be far from his mind now -- and I'm sure the building will be demolished by the day's end -- I am touched that for mere moments, Joey was invested in a noble cancer endeavor.

I drove by the farm-like land for years and years, watching horses from my car window on my way to class, to the university hospital, to other parts of town. I was first a college student, merely noting the vast property. And then I was a mom with two little boys and a definite interest in this acreage. I acquired a passion for this corner lot -- across from the Cancer Center that ten years later became a typical haunt -- and I often found myself driving, pointing, gesturing, shouting, "horses, horses, look at the horses."

There are not many horses left on this land. There is, however, one very large building with a very important sign announcing its presence on the University of Florida campus. The sign reads, Cancer and Genetics Research Complex -- and what a complex it is.

On November 15, officials dedicated this $84.5 million, 280,000 square-foot facility, promising the University of Florida will be at the forefront at cutting-edge cancer research.

A five-story cancer research wing and a six-story genetics research wing are just two of the multidisciplinary entities housed in this new complex, designed to maximize collaborations among researchers and to convert science into innovative cancer therapies and technologies.

"This building is bricks and mortar, but it's much more than that, because it really provides hope for cancer patients, who know that we're going to do the research, we're going to find the answers, we're going to help them," says the director of the UF Shands Cancer Center.

I am one of those cancer patients. And while I'm sad for the horses who lost their homes and my boys who can no longer admire these creatures, I am happy for the beacon of hope that sits prominently on the farm-like land I've been watching for years and years.

Tomorrow is Independence Day. And I have been thinking all day today about all the freedom I have in my life at this exact moment in time. I have had the fortunate luxury to live for my entire life in the land of the free and the home of the brave -- to enjoy the pleasure of a country that is defended by courageous and selfless service men and woman and where I have opportunities that area boundless. I have had for the past five a half years the glorious freedom to stay at home with my children -- and the freedom, thanks to my husband who works to support us all, to avoid an all-encompassing and potentially stressful career. And recently, I have been enjoying two new freedoms -- one thanks to my three-year-old son who decided that he could in fact use the potty which has afforded me the thrilling freedom from changing diapers, smelling diapers, buying diapers, storing diapers, carrying diapers. He is my youngest child and his major feat has truly set me free from a way of life that has lingered on and on. But even more liberating than this -- which still is huge in my book -- is my new freedom from an almost-two-year journey through cancer treatment. My last infusion of cancer-fighting drugs sailed through my veins last week and I am now free to live my days without constant medical intervention. It's a freedom not all cancer patients get. A freedom I have never known. A freedom I will not take for granted, will not ever forget, will not ever stop enjoying. And while I will give special consideration to my freedom on each Independence Day that follows this one, I will really feel grateful each and every day for the independence that fills my world. It's a gift I would never return, never trade, never discard. It's a gift of a lifetime.