To my friends and their dads.

Sometimes I want to curse, sometimes I want to scream, sometimes I want to pile the two together and slam them with a heavy question mark. Sometimes that time is now.

This post goes out to four of my good friends who have all witnessed their dads battle the awful word, cancer. Ladies, you'll never know the depth of my heart and the strength I have for your courage, nor will I understand why this word crushes our spirits the way it has. Eff you cancer.

A year ago, I heard news from one of my best friends (I met her my first few weeks in Boise) whom had been told her dad had only a matter of days to live. Excuse me? Then I met a fabulous friend who has a smile bigger than anyone I have ever met, and BAM cancer quickly crept up on her dad. Third, I moved to Denver, met an outgoing friend who told me the story about her dad who had been taken away from cancer days after her wedding. Okay, so here we are with my fourth and one of my best friends who just found out brain cancer has invaded her dad's witty, hilarious, genius and caring mind. UGH. Honestly, if I could say one thing to this awful disease, I think I would rather vomit.

Why do you have to be so cruel, invasive and utterly disgusting?

I don't understand it, not sure I ever will and definitely don't want to hear another story of it destroying my friends. Ladies, you have my heart and my prayers. I admire you, your fathers and families! I was asked earlier today if I had one talent or skill what would it be? For some odd reason I said," O maybe to play the piano." X that answer. My talent or skill would be to crush cancer, bury it in flames and make sure the frustration of this disease was over. I know this is extreme, but there is nothing else to wish for than the hope that it stops now (and in flames).

My glass is still half-full, but my heart is half-crushed hearing about my friends and their dads. Please cross your fingers, toes and say something to someone out there who you think might be listening.