09/17/2026
Before Katie got sick, she ran cross-country. She played with her sisters. She sang.
In January, at just 11 years old, my niece was diagnosed with DIPG, an aggressive and devastating brain tumor.
She moved through the world without having to think about the mechanics of moving through the world.
Over the course of this disease, I have watched my niece lose those things.
I’ve watched her lose the ability to walk. Then to sit upright on her own. To support her own head. To chew her food. To swallow normally.
And now, the little girl who used to sing is losing her ability to speak.
Yesterday, Katie felt well enough and was able to eat an ice cream sandwich.
We celebrated it.
An ice cream sandwich.
Something most of us hand our kids without a second thought. We don’t stop and think about everything their little bodies have to be able to do just to eat it. We don’t think about chewing or swallowing. We don’t think about them being able to hold it in their own hands.
Until suddenly you do.
Things most of us do every single day without ever considering that they are a privilege.
Drink a glass of water.
Stand up from a chair.
Walk across a room.
Hold your head up.
Chew your food.
Say what you’re thinking.
Move your body simply because you decided you wanted to.
Watching Katie lose these abilities has been absolutely crushing. But it has also changed the way I think about movement and the way we talk about our bodies.
So many of us look at our bodies and immediately start making a list of everything they can’t do.
I can’t run that fast.
I can’t lift that much.
I can’t do a push-up.
I can’t move the way I used to.
I’m too slow.
I’m too weak.
I’m too out of shape.
But what CAN you do?
Can you stand?
Can you walk?
Can you pick something up?
Can you dance badly in your kitchen?
Can you drink a glass of water without someone having to add thickener to it first?
Then there is something worth being grateful for today.
We spend so much time thinking about what we wish our bodies could do that we forget to appreciate what they’re already doing for us every single day.
So move.
Lift something. Walk around the block. Stretch. Dance. Play with your kids. Come work out with us. Do whatever your body allows you to do today.
And instead of spending time picking apart everything you can’t do, spend a little time appreciating everything you can.
Because I would give anything to watch Katie run again.
I would give anything to hear her sing again.
And I know she would give anything to get up and do the things so many of us keep putting off until tomorrow.
Move because you can. ❤️
September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month.
This month, I hope you’ll take a little less for granted. Move your body. Hug your babies. Celebrate the ordinary things, even something as simple as eating an ice cream sandwich.
Because sometimes the ordinary things turn out to be the really big things.
For Katie. 🎗️
