05/10/2026
Late last night, I returned from a week in North Carolina, photographing a large group of cancer survivors -- some fully still immersed in treatment, some praying they never see another form of PET scans or chemo again. Many of them mothers, many wishing they could be. Some losing much-loved mothers, sisters and pregnancies (πββοΈ) because of cancer. But they are so much more than cancer or survivors. Individually, they are funny and creative and determined and insightful and insanely intelligent and captivating and quirky and ridiculoulsy beautiful. As a whole, they are a force. Every time I do this, and we're all sharing one house in the Outer Banks, I stop and wonder...if only people out on the beach knew the absolute power that is under this one roof in a white shingled house at Milepost 9.5, they'd never believe it. Think Marvel superhero level x100 inside each little bedroom. Today, I'm cheering for every mom. For every form of mom. Including the ones wishing and missing and hoping beyond words that they can continue being present alongside their favorite people at every age. If you can, I'd love it if you can please send each of these women (and others we know in the fight) your best wishes and prayers. I still have my port and I'm still in longterm treatment, and I understand more than I wish I did how layered life with cancer can be. It is a beautiful thing that and lets us peel back the onion for just a week to get back to our non-cancer, adventure-seeking selves, embracing all the beauty that was there before and will forever be.
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