We just got back from my Uncle's Birthday/Burn the Mask bash. My Uncle Alan turns 48 this Monday. He completed his radiation and chemo treatments last October, and tonight he ritualistically burned his radiation mask on a bon-fire. My Aunt Debbie said a small prayer as a large group of us held hands, and then he tossed it in the flames. It was an emotional event, and I can't begin to understand how much of a toll this has taken on his life. Looking at this mask was scary. Not in the literal sense, but just thinking about what it symbolized. When I looked at it, it was like looking at part of the monster that almost killed my Uncle. I'm sure that the mask has been a constant reminder of the torment that was his treatment. I know that because of the treatment, he's on his way to becoming a survivor, but it's something that I wouldn't wish on any human being. It's even more devastating knowing that children have to go through the same thing every day. I don't know if I could ever be that strong. My Uncle is not so much older than I am...just seventeen years. I have many fond memories of him from my childhood as he was probably one of my favorite uncles growing up. He's always been a strong, hard working man; stern, but with a heart of pure gold. I'm happy that we were able to be a part of this tonight ---I love my Uncle and I wish him many, many more birthdays. I can only hope to recall tonight to my grandkids one day when our archaic fight against cancer is a thing of the past.