As years pass and the showers of spring turn into the blossoms of summer which than turn into the leaves of fall, my mother regained her strength. As the leaves start falling in late October, I see my mother under the pink balloon arch reading “Breast Cancer Awareness Walk” wearing a pink cotton t-shirt reading “survivor” in big block letters. As the shrill of the whistle echoes throughout the street signaling that the walk as begun, I cheer with excitement and wave my pink pom-poms in the air from the sideline as my mother walks by me waving both her hands. The surrounding cheers reverberate in my mind as I see my mother continue walking, and all that’s left for the audience to see is “survivor” written in big letters on the back of her pink