One of the most heart-hardening words we hear in the world today is the word "cancer." The pain and agony that the word itself brings into the eyes of people that just hear it is heartbreaking. When a family has been touched by the hand of this cruel disease, their entire structure and outlook on life is forced to change. I could only talk about what I had seen friends go through up until not long ago when I got a phone call that changed everything for me.

I remember my mother calling me and saying she needed to speak with me right away, but she wouldn't tell me why or what for. I remember pulling into the driveway and seeing her with her head in her hands, staring at the ground. She looked up with a glazed look in her eye and with the most monotone voice she said, "Your grandpa has cancer." I could feel my bottom lip sticking out as my eyes burned with tears, and I instantly took my anger and dismay out on the greater being above. How could such a sickly disease invade the body of one of the healthiest human beings I knew? How could God let this happen to my family? All questions I never got an answer to, and probably never will.

As the months dragged on, I watched the man I looked up to the most have the life sucked right out of him as he underwent rounds and rounds of radiation treatment. I was forced to hear every time he screamed when he stood up because his bones ached from treatment. I was forced to see every tear he shed when looking at old photographs because he was convinced he wouldn't be on this earth much longer. Not only did I see his pain, but I observed my grandmother's and the rest of my family as well. She was hanging on by a thread while being the crutch for the man she loved -- it was plain to see. From that moment on I hated cancer. I hated what it was doing to my family. I hated that it was taking the life out of someone I loved deeply. I hated that it made my mind race at night, wondering how long my grandpa had left. I absolutely, without a doubt, hated cancer.

Cancer was taking my grandpa away from me, so who was going to walk me down the aisle on my wedding day? When my grandkids asked if they had a papaw, what was I to say? All of these questions filled my head, I just couldn't keep myself from replaying every possible scenario over and over. I had to be sure to prepare myself because, the way things were looking, the odds weren't in our favor. Despite that, my family came together the best they could and prayed long and hard that things would be okay. My grandma fully believed that we would make it out of this darkness that had cast itself upon our family.

I was helping my kids warm up one day before a softball game when I got a call from my mother again. At this point, my heart sank any time she called because it was usually bad news, but not this time. My grandfather was cancer-free. At 70-years-old he underwent four long months of radiation and came out on top. That night I went home and he was asleep in his recliner, because he was finally able to rest knowing things would be okay. I kissed him on the forehead and snuck out of the room before he woke up. Cancer is something no one and their family should ever have to endure, and it's sickening to watch the ones you love wither away because of such a cruel disease. I'm thankful I get more years with my grandfather, and I know he is too. Cancer can take away a lot of things, but it can't take away faith, hope and love.