I'll simply put it this way: Life is short. But, one's life should not be taken by cancer.

It's a Monday morning. No one likes Monday mornings.

You're minding your own business and the next thing you know you look at your phone and notice you have three missed calls from your mom. That's odd? What does she want so bad? You call her back and she tells you news you never thought you would hear. You sit in silence for about five minutes after hanging up the phone. You think to yourself, how is this possible?

So what does one do when they find out a loved one has cancer? Well, here are some things I did after I received news that my grandfather was diagnosed with Stage 3 Esophagus cancer:

1. Cried

2. Screamed

3. Ask myself why

4. Became in denial with the situation

4. Grew angry with everyone and everything around me

How does one accept that their loved one has cancer? How does one become OK with hearing about someone they love and care about so much has to endure great pain because of some stupid disease? Let me fill you in: you don't accept things. And, most certainly of all, you are not OK.

I watched my own father begin to lose himself over the thought of losing his father. This was the man who ran my father's business. The man who my father went to for advice four to five times a day. The man whose eyes lit up every time he saw my brother and I. The man who dedicated his life to making everyone around him live comfortably. How is this fair? My grandfather, father, nor family deserves to lose someone who is the living definition of a saint.

A few months down a very long and very emotional road, I discovered a Non-Profit Organization known as the American Cancer Society and their event, Relay for Life.

While doing research on the non-profit organization and what exactly they spent their funds on, this is something that automatically shut down any misconceptions I could have possibly of had toward whether or not I should fundraise:  

The American Cancer Society has spent over 4 billion dollars toward only the best scientific cancer research since 1946. No other nongovernmental, non-for-profit organization in the United States comes remotely close to investing the amount of money that the American Cancer Society has toward finding the causes and cures of cancer.

How could one not donate to an organization that is noted to be the only organization in the US to focus directly on funding cancer research when their loved one was experiencing chemotherapy?  

Fast forward about two months later, the day of Relay for Life was here. The opening ceremony made me realize for the first time in months that I was not alone, and it was just the beginning of night. I was surrounded by people who have all known someone, been affected by, or lost someone to cancer.

The past four months I believed I was the only one who was going through this? Where have all of these people been? I've seen her multiple times around campus and she's battling cancer? He beat cancer when he was 13? Can I go give them a hug? Or would that be weird?

Toward the middle of the event, people began making Luminaria's for those who had either passed from cancer, were going through treatment, or who were survivors.

Each luminaria is personalized with a name, message or drawing in memory or honor of a friend or loved one who has been affected by cancer. Each luminaria candle represents a person.

I walked the track slowly, eyes filled with tears. I could not believe that this many people who walk past me every single day have been exactly where I am. I watched as the volunteers spelled out words such as "hope" and "faith" with luminaria's on the bleachers. I took endless amounts of pictures and sent them to my father, showing him that everyone is trying to find a cure, we are not alone.

The event came to a close around 5 a.m... the next morning. I instantly knew that I wanted to help plan next years Relay for Life. I wanted to know that I was able to help students, similar to myself, realize that they are not alone when coping with cancer.

A few months later, on June 24, I ended up losing my grandfather to a very hard, long battle with Esophagus cancer. It was easily the hardest thing I can say that I have ever gone through. I saw my father cry. Something he has never done in front of me. At my grandfather's viewing, a line formed out the door of the funeral home of people who wanted to talk to my grandmother about how special of a man my grandfather truly was. This sparked something inside of me. I wanted to fight for a cure to this terrible disease more than ever.

If you were to approach me right now and ask why I decided to help plan Relay for Life this year, be prepared to listen for a while. I work alongside the most passionate and dedicated people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I have learned so much about how to cope with the loss of a loved one since June. Personally, I put it into planning an event as big as Relay for Life. I have seen great things happen in result of doing so and believe my grandfather is helping me every step of the way.

I hope that this article breaks any form of stigma that people may associate with the American Cancer Society and Relay for Life. I also hope that this article catches someone's attention who was originally hesitant on going to the event due to feeling how I once felt, alone.

Since last year, I have raised $750 toward cancer research in honor of my grandfather. Will you be able to say you helped end the fight against cancer, too?

To find out how you can make a difference and end the fight against cancer click here.