MEMORIES FROM A MOM: Childhood Cancer is a Shadow That Walks Beside Us Every Day

Childhood Cancer Awareness Month

Olivia Owens, above, died of cancer at the age of eight on December 16, 2023.  September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month—a time to come together in honor of the children and families who face this brutal, life-altering journey. For many, it’s a cause. For the Owens family, it’s a scar. A shadow that still walks beside them every day.

September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month—a time to come together in honor of the children and families who face this brutal, life-altering journey. For many, it’s a cause. For us, it’s a scar. A shadow that still walks beside us every day.

My daughter Olivia passed away 20 months ago. And yet, not a day has gone by when her light hasn’t reached me—softly, fiercely, lovingly—cutting through even the darkest moments of grief.

She was, and always will be, my bright little firecracker. And this September, like every September since her diagnosis, we go gold for her.

Childhood cancer is not just a diagnosis—it’s a shadow that stretches far beyond treatment rooms and hospital beds. It lingers. On the brighter days, you can barely see it. But it’s there. Always. Bending with the light. Creeping into every quiet moment. Growing large again when you least expect it.

When you’ve lived through it, you know. Every new symptom in a sibling, every stray thought in the middle of the night, every ache in your soul whispers: Is it back? Could it happen again?

It teaches you not to plan too far ahead. Not to change jobs. Not to breathe too deeply. You stay the course, quietly bracing for impact. It steals normalcy, reshapes joy, and plants worry in places it doesn’t belong.

This shadow doesn’t only fall on the child—it falls on everyone who loves them. It dulls marriages. Alters friendships. Silently steals time from siblings who are growing up with grief of their own. It drains your energy as you try to be a light for others, all while the weight of loss crushes your chest.

But even in the darkest places, Olivia shined.

She was hilarious—truly funny in a way that surprised even grown-ups. She giggled constantly, made silly jokes, and loved to cuddle more than anything. She called out “I love you” a dozen times a day, like it was the most natural thing in the world to remind everyone around her that they were cherished.

She adored her sister, following her like a little koala, listening to every word. She loved school, loved her friends, loved to read, and was endlessly curious. Olivia was incredibly smart, thoughtful, and oh so brave. Through every moment of her cancer journey, she never gave up—not once. Her strength still takes my breath away.

I don’t want my daughter to be remembered just as a warrior—though she was. I want her to be remembered as a child. A funny, kind, brilliant little girl who loved hard and lived fully, even when cancer tried to steal everything. And in the same breath, I’m proud she was both—a child and a fighter. A light in the dark.

During Olivia’s two-year battle, Odyssey Charter School became part of our family. The teachers, students, and staff wrapped their arms around us and never let go. They reminded us we weren’t alone. Their compassion still echoes in our lives today. In a world that often turns away from hard things, they leaned in—and that mattered more than they’ll ever know.

This September, please take a moment to learn about childhood cancer. Speak their names. Share their stories. Stand with the families who are still in the fight, and with those of us who are grieving—carrying our children not in our arms, but in our hearts.

Awareness isn’t just about facts and ribbons. It’s about remembering children like Olivia. It’s about honoring the joy they brought into the world, and about ensuring fewer families have to live in the shadow that cancer casts.

We go gold for Olivia.
We go gold for the light she was—
and the light she still is.

Always.

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