I was present for death only one time in my 36 years of life. I consider this both a bad and a good thing. It's bad because I did not want my grandmother to die -- and watching it happen made it so real, so vivid, so painful. I don't think I would have ever chosen to watch my grandma die -- to watch her slip from consciousness to coma, to observe her altered body once death arrived, to witness the movement of her body on a stretcher as it was wheeled out of the house from the bedroom I still see every time I visit my mom's house. But I think I am lucky really -- and this is the good part -- because I got to be with her during her final moments. I got to watch her body as it lay still, peaceful and calm and still breathing. I got to talk to her and although she could not respond, I believe she could hear my words. And it makes me happy to know my grandma may have known I was with just prior to her flight to heaven. And after her flight, I got to touch her cool hands. I got to feel the power of the passing of one life -- a long life -- and I got to feel the comfort of a death that was not ugly or painful or difficult. It was sad -- it's still sad -- that my grandma died three years ago. But what a privilege it was to be part of the day she left this world.

Susan DeWilde left this world in much the same way -- with loved ones by her side. She was a fighter and had conquered several rounds of breast cancer, a tumor in her spinal cord, uterine cancer, lymphatic cancer, and then leukemia, which took her life at the age of 53. I don't know this from Susan herself but from her friend, Christy Mack -- who helped her accept her death and guided her into her own final moments so that she could escape her pain and die peacefully. Christy writes about her beautiful friend and her empowering death in an article that appears in the August 2006 Oprah Magazine. Titled Friends to the End, Christy's story details how she soothed her friend, cradled her hand, and talked her through her last breaths. She helped her on her way during a time her friend feared most. Christy writes, "What she and I shared the night she died was a precious gift of friendship, emotionally profound and sacred in its perfection. It broke my heart. It strengthened my soul."

This I understand.

I found Sark long ago -- about 10 years ago when I was working with college students on a campus in Virginia. Part of my job was supervising Resident Assistants -- students who live and work on the residence hall floors and are responsible for building community among residents -- advising them and counseling them and mentoring them and stepping in when conflict and trouble arises. It's a tough job -- being a peer and being in charge at the same time -- and Resident Assistants receive intensive training on how to best manage a floor of students possibly living away from home for the first time. I got to train these student leaders at times -- and Sark's books helped me motivate, inspire, and get to know these individuals. And over the years, as I assumed other jobs and roles and purposes, I found that Sark was still a great companion for me. And now I realize that what Sark has to offer really applies to anyone looking for a little inspiration, a little direction, a little creativity, a little delight.

I see and use my handmade quilt every day. It was created especially for me by more than 20 talented friends who crafted the lavender, pale green, and white patches into a flowered work of beauty and serenity and warmth. It sits at the end of my bed -- folded neatly and by coincidence matching the color scheme of my room -- until the time at which I turn in for the night and I spread it out and allow it to comfort me and warm me. It has covered me every night since the night it was delivered to my doorstep by a few of the friends who helped make it -- and the peace it brings me today is no less than the peace it brought me the first night I used it -- the night when I was weak and sick and struggling with breast cancer.

I have had many moments in my life where anxiety and panic have filled my mind. But this is normal and necessary really as life delivers all kinds of situations that produce all sorts of emotions.

I can recall vividly anxious feelings before a school exam but this is what motivated me to study and prepare and to pass the exam with flying colors. This anxiety gave me a push, a kick in the pants -- in a good, healthy way.

Without a bit of panic, I may not have cared. I may have been aloof to the importance of doing well in school. But while life has presented me with a good amount of this healthy emotion, it has also tossed an abundance of unhealthy anxiety and panic my way -- the kind that has consumed my mind and twisted my insides. The kind that made peaceful living seem impossible.

I love candles. I have two sitting right next to me at my computer so at night when my little boys are sleeping and it's quiet in my house, I can peacefully relax and write. I'll take any candle -- although I prefer those with a strong scent and cinnamon is probably my favorite. I do have one pink candle that I like a lot. And it  just so happens to be a breast cancer candle -- I think I have just about every pink breast cancer product made and will eventually write about them all. This candle, from Pier 1 Imports, was a gift from my mom and comes in an iridescent mosaic glass jar. The glass is pink and the candle is pink and it even comes with a pink ribbon lapel pin. Twenty-five percent of the purchase price -- which is $14 -- is donated to the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation for breast cancer research and outreach programs.

My pink candle sits on a bookshelf in my dining room, next to my scrapbooks and some framed photos. I bring it out now and then -- I don't want to use it up too quickly -- and enjoy the sparkling colors and the gentle scent. Candles melt away some of my daily stresses and anxieties. And this candle, in particular, reminds of me of my own breast cancer journey as it flickers with light and hope.