Nanny Bea was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1985.  I was at a Christmas Party at Louis and Ann Panos' home, and Mom and Dad were late.  When they finally arrived, they were both subdued.  They seated themselves on the couch in Louis and Ann's living room, surrounded by so many people, all in the mood for a Christmas celebration.  They were not. I brought some food over to them from the buffet table and placed it on the coffee table in front of them.  Dad had his arm around Mother, rubbing her back.  Her dark brown, soulful eyes looked directly into mine  as I bent to place the items down in front of them.  With a quivering lower lip, she told me in a low, sad voice, "I flunked my mammogram." That's how I found out my mother had breast cancer.  It hit hard. It made me realize how unimportant material wealth was when it comes to cancer.  You may think you have everything, but then someone you love is diagnosed with "The Big C", and you know you would trade every earthly possession just to have them well. Mother did survive.  Her cancer was contained, and she was fine after her surgery.  She will celebrate her 89th birthday in February. I stayed with Mother throughout her mastectomy at Boston's Beth Israel Hospital in early 1986, and I took her for most of her follow-up appointments. But I'll never forget the the overwhelming fear that coursed through my body the moment I thought I might lose my mother.  And since that time, I've never taken life for granted again. 3 Generations of Greenberg Women