Once there was a woman.

A wife.

A mom.

An astrophysicist.

A blogger.

I found her blog by that rabbit-trail of first one blog, then another, and another and another. (You know what I mean if you love to read what other people are sharing.)  As I read her blog, I needed to blow my nose, and wipe the tears off my face. It became harder and harder to read because my tears were falling too quickly.

Her name?

Susan Niebur.

A year ago she died.

From yet another recurrence of cancer.

As I read her story, I heard about the Army of Princesses who fought for her, the wonderful toddlers in her life whom she loved so deeply, helpful and dedicated parents & parents-in-law, her cyber-friends and supporters. I also read snippets of how her husband contributed to her journey.

Her husband. Curt.

The last post on her website is by him. Telling everyone that she had passed.

But one post mentioning her husband struck me:

I know, he said, but I love you.  And he took me out for pizza in the warm fall day.  As the sun shined on us, I smiled again, for all of it is do-able because of those three words.  I love you.


Tell your spouse. Again and Again.


“I love you.”

Make it all do-able.

Read Susan Niebur’s journey through inflammatory breast cancer, a rare and aggressive form of breast cancer that presents without a lump, at Toddler Planet .  You’ll cry. But you’ll also be inspired.

Her statement?

“All that survives after our death are publications and people.

So look carefully after the words you write, the thoughts and publications you create, and how you love others.  For these are the only things that will remain.”