The Fear of Death
I realize one thing we try to never talk about is the biggest reality staring us in the face: the fear of death.
There are days when the fear of dying sits closer to the surface than we’d like to admit. It doesn’t always roar; sometimes it’s a quiet ache, a whisper that shows up in the middle of the night or in the middle of a perfectly ordinary moment. And if you’ve ever felt that—really felt it—you’re not alone.
The truth is, fear is part of being human, and it’s especially part of living with cancer. It doesn’t mean we’re weak. It means we’re aware. It means we’re trying. It means we’re still here.
But here’s the part we forget:
Every time we name the fear, it loses a little of its power.
Every time we speak it out loud, it becomes something we can hold instead of something that holds us.
And in that space—between fear and truth—life still happens.
Small joys still find us.
Love still reaches for us.
Hope still rises, even when we’re tired.
So if today you’re afraid, take a breath.
You’re not failing.
You’re not going backwards.
You’re simply human, living through something enormous.
And you don’t have to do it alone.
Not here. Not in this community. Not in this moment.
We walk with you.
We sit with you.
We breathe with you.
And together, we keep choosing life—one honest, courageous moment at a time.
Linda Trummer is a 10-year survivor of Mantle Cell Lymphoma. She also runs an online support group of 2700 people from 40 different countries, on Facebook. Each day, she posts a positive thinking narrative to help people kickstart their day. This is one of those posts.
