Permission to Play
July 7, 2026
Summer has always felt different to me.
Even when I was working full-time, summer carried a certain energy. The days felt a little longer. The pace felt a little slower. People took vacations. Kids were out of school. Barbecues, beach days, road trips, and evenings spent watching the sunset somehow felt more acceptable.
It's almost as if summer hands us a permission slip to play.
But as someone living with stage 4 cancer, reality quickly sets in.
This month alone includes quarterly CT scans and bone scans to see whether my treatment is still working, an echocardiogram to monitor my heart, multiple rounds of bloodwork, two chemotherapy treatments, appointments with my local oncologist, a four-hour drive for one consulting oncologist, and a flight for another.
When you add it all up, it's exhausting.
Whether you're living with terminal cancer, a serious illness, or another medical hardship, it can sometimes feel like everyone around you is out there living their best life while you're carrying a burden that few people can see. When I talk about suffering, it's not always physical pain—although sometimes it is. More often, it's the grief that comes with loss.
The loss of spontaneity.
The loss of carefree plans.
The loss of being able to move through life without wondering what the next scan, test, or treatment might bring.
There are moments when it feels like life is happening around us instead of with us.
But still, we go on.
We learn to hold two truths at the same time. We can grieve what we've lost while still finding joy in what remains. We can acknowledge the hard realities of our circumstances while continuing to look for reasons to smile.
For me, it's no longer the big events I look forward to. It's the ordinary moments that have become extraordinary. A leisurely cup of coffee while watching the sunrise. A stroll along the beach. A conversation with a friend. An evening spent watching the sunset. A day when there are no medical appointments on the calendar.
These moments may seem small, but they remind me that life is still happening right here, right now.
So this is your reminder to treasure the days of summer.
Take time to play.
Go for the ice cream.
Take a walk on the beach.
Call a friend.
Laugh a little longer than usual around the barbecue.
Watch the sunset.
And don't wait for a special occasion to appreciate an ordinary day. Sometimes the most meaningful moments aren't the big milestones we plan for—they're the quiet ones we almost overlook. The ones that remind us that even in the midst of life's challenges, there is still beauty to be found, joy to be experienced, and a life worth showing up for.
-Laura
Live Fully. Love Deeply. Laugh Often.
