Today, on a beautiful sunny day, I took one of my usual post-chemo walks—a routine that’s become part of my healing. I’m a week and a day out from my final chemo treatment, and my heart was already full of emotion. Just yesterday, I received incredible news: one of my CT scans showed no metastases. A hopeful sign. I’m still waiting on the rest, but the hope is alive and real.
As I walked the familiar path, taking in the public art that lines the trail, something caught my eye on one of the pieces. A small, colorful quilted heart. I paused, held it in my hands, and immediately felt a rush of warmth, connection, and peace. It felt like fate. Like the universe (or maybe someone’s quiet act of kindness) was whispering, You’re held. You’re seen. Keep going.
Right now, I feel so surrounded by love. Friends, family, and even strangers have wrapped me in care—meals left at my door, messages of encouragement, prayers for wellness. And today, a tiny quilted heart on an art installation joined that chorus of compassion.
To whoever made and left this heart: thank you. Your small act of love met me in a big moment of transition—from surviving to thriving. I’ll carry it with me, always.
