My brother-in-law just read the post I wrote about his allegiance to the pink breast cancer bracelet -- the one that snapped after three solid years of wear, the one he replaced a day later.

I wrote my previous post in an attempt to give meaning to this perhaps symbolic happening. A breast cancer bracelet breaks -- what could that mean? I took a stab my own interpretation. My thoughts are featured in that post, On broken cancer bracelets. Now, Jack is weighing in with his own twist on the matter. I like his version.

Jack says his bracelet, worn ever since I was diagnosed with breast cancer in November 2004, broke because I am free of cancer. The bracelet is no longer necessary. End of cancer. End of bracelet. End of story.

I like to find meaning in ordinary life events. Like my dreams, for example. The other day, I had a dream about a friend from high school. In my dream, this friend was a doctor at my local hospital, where all my cancer poking and prodding takes place. It makes sense this guy was a doctor -- last I heard from him, he was in medical school. Where he practices medicine, I had no idea. But maybe my dream was a clue. Maybe it was sign this old pal is right here in Gainesville, Florida.

Nope. I did a Google search and he's in Ohio -- right where we graduated from high school and he attended medical school. Not so much meaning in that dream. That's OK. I'm on to my next life interpretation now.

Ever since I was diagnosed with breast cancer my brother-in-law has been wearing a pink bracelet -- the one that says: Share Beauty. Spread Hope. For almost three whole years, the same rubbery band has been hanging from his wrist. Everyone in my family started out with one of these trinkets of support. And every one of us has since abandoned our pink fashion statement -- everyone except for Jack. He has stood firm in his support. I'm not sure he ever took that thing off. What a guy.