LOYAL. LOCAL. COMPLETE.
When my mom, Jenny Craig, found a lump in her breast in August of 2022, she didn’t waste time in denial. She knew in her heart what was coming and faced it head-on. When the doctor confirmed it was invasive ductal carcinoma, she didn’t break down in fear. She simply said, “Okay, let’s do this.” From the very beginning, she chose courage over despair. The decision to fight instead of fold became the guiding light for our entire family as we walked through her cancer journey together.
At first, the doctors believed the tumor was only about two centimeters. Further testing revealed it was much larger (over 10 centimeters), requiring aggressive treatment. She went through a double mastectomy, followed by chemotherapy and radiation. These are words that are easy to type, but the lived reality is much harder: surgeries that left her body altered forever, radiation that burned away not only cancer but muscle and chemotherapy that brought exhaustion, brain fog and pain.
Through it all, my mom never stopped being the backbone of our family. She set the tone. When she said, “There will be no crying, only fighting,” she meant it. Her laughter, even on her hardest days, reminded us that joy was still possible. Her ability to crack a joke while hooked up to chemo helped us see the bigger picture: cancer could take her strength, her energy, her comfort, but it could not take her spirit.
The year after her mastectomy, my mom endured more surgeries, chronic pain, and the long-term effects of treatment. She lost muscle in her chest and arm, her shoulder pulled inward from radiation damage, and she battled lymphedema and scar tissue. Every day was a new challenge, but every day she chose gratitude. She admitted that sometimes the pain was unbearable, but she always reminded us, and herself, that she was thankful to be alive, thankful for her family and thankful for another day.
There were moments of vulnerability. She was honest about the regrets, the physical scars, and the frustration of her body not being the same. Yet she was equally honest about her gratitude.
“Life is just a little harder now,” she once said, “but I’ve never been a quitter in my life.”
Those words still echo as a reminder that true bravery isn’t about pretending things are easy—it’s about moving forward even when they’re impossibly hard.
One year after her diagnosis, she celebrated being cancer-free. Watching her determination not only inspired our family but also encouraged friends, neighbors and even people who only knew her story through social media. Her journey became a testimony of faith, hope and perseverance.
Her story also serves as an important reminder: early detection matters. My mom knew her body well enough to sense something wasn’t right, and because of that awareness, she took action quickly. It’s crucial for women to listen to their bodies, perform regular self-exams, and schedule mammograms when it’s time. Too often, fear or avoidance can delay diagnosis. My mom’s journey shows us that while cancer is frightening, facing it directly offers the best chance for survival.
Cancer changed her life forever, but it never defined her. She is defined by her courage, her humor in the darkest moments and her love for her family. She is defined by her refusal to quit, her honesty about the struggles and her gratitude for every new day.
To anyone reading this who has a loved one battling cancer: hold each other close, laugh when you can, cry when you must, and never underestimate the strength you can draw from one another. And to women everywhere—please, don’t put off getting checked. Your health is too important. My mom’s bravery saved her life, and her story just might save someone else’s.
Her fight taught us all something invaluable: life after cancer may not look the same, but it can still be filled with love, laughter and gratitude. My mom is proof of that.