Speak Life

Shyra is eating a little bit more each day. Yesterday it was chicken noodle soup. The day before it was an egg bite and toast. She’s loving mangos and melon right now too. (See gallery for photos of the yummy food Michael makes for her).

She is still experiencing difficult symptoms (either from the cancer spreading or from chemo side effects, could be from either one or both). She is so very tired and has been sleeping for days.

Michael gets her up and walking each time the sun is out. But she only has the strength to last 4 minutes up and then she has to sit or lie down.

She is so delicate and it takes every ounce of strength she can muster to lift her water bottle to her mouth, to open her eyes and turn her head, or even to speak.

With that being said, we ask that if any of you are stopping by to visit Shyra in the weeks to come, that you give her the courtesy of bringing positivity and energy, not taking from her limited strength and energy that she has. When the topics of her cancer and treatments comes up, it drains her. She doesn’t want to talk about it. She wants to hear about your life. When you talk about your job, family, stories of day to day happenings, THAT fills her tank, and brings her joy. Can we all agree to respect her wishes and discuss fun things that make her smile, and not our opinions of what treatment she should try? Let’s instead speak life into her, and give back the joy she has brought to all of us!

If we can all work together to get her back on her feet through prayer, positivity, and laughter, she will FEEL the peace that she is longing for.

Shyra needs a miracle - so let’s be apart of that miracle, by showing her that we are here for her, to love her and support her no matter what she chooses. What matters is her heart and soul and her determination to keep fighting. Everything else is trivial.

336 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

The sky was dark, with ominous clouds shutting out the last hint of sunshine. The street was quiet, except for tiny droplets of water dancing across the pavement in random patterns like pinballs in a

I woke up to the sound of sirens deafening, bright lights shining, I was breathing in an oxygen mask, and the most gorgeous men I had ever seen were leaning over me with such care and compassion! Why

It was the morning of May 5th, 1988, and the bustling about the “mansion home”, as we called it, was filled with joy and anticipation. I was 6 years old. I could feel the love in the air as my parents