Those of us diagnosed with cancer are not the only survivors of our diseases. Our families and friends and caregivers and even employers and co-workers survive right along with us. Sure, the facets of our survivorship vary tremendously -- but we all survive the wrath of cancer in our own unique ways.

My two little boys have spent the past two years surviving breast cancer -- my breast cancer. And while they still don't fully comprehend the magnitude of such a disease, they do understand cancer is a sickness. They understand it took my hair, made me feel sick, left me with scars, and they religiously comment on every pink ribbon they see. They call the ribbons cancer.

I am often asked how my children handled my diagnosis, my treatment, my emotions. They handled it all well, I think, and as time passes, they do better and better. In fact, cancer seems to have vanished into thin air for Joey, who will turn six on Wednesday, and Danny, who is three and a half years old. I know this because of their answers to a few questions I asked them last night, on the eve of 2007.

What was the best thing you did this year?

Joey: Swimming in the pool.
Danny: Being at school.

What was the worst thing that happened this year?

Joey: Getting that boo-boo on my foot, when it scraped on the driveway.
Danny: The cheetah that was chasing me.

What could you have done better this year?

Joey: Learning to ride my bike without training wheels.
Danny: Watching Ice Age.

What would you like to work on during this new year?

Joey: Building a better stick house.
Danny: Drinking milk.

What was the scariest thing that happened this year?

Joey: When I thought there were monsters in my room.
Danny: When there was a cheetah in my room.

What was the funniest thing that happened to you this year?

Joey: When Jack (uncle) and Bud (grandpa) tickled me.
Danny: When the cheetah was chasing me.

When I say the word Daddy, what do you think about?

Joey: Someone who makes me laugh.
Danny: no reply -- he was distracted by the movie Ice Age.

When I say the word Mommy, what do you think about?

Joey: I don't know.
Danny: no reply -- still distracted by the movie Ice Age.

What do you wish for 2007?

Joey: I wish I could fly.
Danny: I wish I could slide on a sleigh.

And that's a wrap. Not one mention of cancer. Not one response concerning endless medical appointments, my drastically different hair, or the port -- they called it a stone -- that was removed from my body in September.

There truly are more important things in life than cancer for two little boys whose memories of a horrible disease will hopefully fade with each passing year -- until not even a pink ribbon catches their attention.

Happy 2007, Joey and Danny. May all your wishes come true!