I remember my sister Adrienne's last 4th of July in 2001. She had undergone only two rounds of chemotherapy and had already lost 18 pounds in six weeks (12.5% of her body weight). Here's an excerpt from my book Better Off Bald: A Life in 147 Days.
We left Arizona yesterday morning, which was the fourth of July. Coming home, the drive only took eight hours. I promised John we would be back in time to see the fireworks; we have a perfect view of the city’s annual show from our house. However, he didn’t bother to come outside and watch them. Adrienne peered up at the sky for a few minutes before going in; she was feeling light-headed and had a low-grade fever again. I felt empty as I watched the fireworks dazzle the sky reminding me of Adrienne’s various hair colors over the last year: red, purple, blue, and then blue again. The doctors won’t let her dye the stubble that clings to her scalp, but they have given her medicine labeled with a skull and cross bones. This world makes no sense. Unable to muster up any enthusiasm, I go inside too, the fireworks already forgotten.
Cherish your loved ones this 4th of July and enjoy every minute of it.
💙Andrea