Life happens so fast it all seems like a blur. But every once in awhile we have a wonderful day, a memorable day, one that stands out in our minds and that we can look back on with fondness. And often, those days are our birthdays. We’ve got photos, or maybe even video, and most importantly, we’ve got that feeling memorized in our hearts. Birthdays are days to celebrate who we are, and who we love.

The first birthday I really remember is my 8th. My dad took the whole family to the circus that day, so I got to leave school early. I was so excited about that at school I cut a big circle out of purple construction paper, and put a big “8″ in the middle – then I wrote around the edges: “Today is my birthday and I am.” I tied a piece of red yarn through a hole-punch in the top and wore that sign around my neck all day!

On my 12th birthday my mother surprised me with my first slumber party. My parents had recently divorced, and I had started a new school with new friends. My mom invited my new friends and my old friends and it was a great way for me to feel connected with both of these circles. I think it was my 14th birthday that we had a joint party with my brother and sister and we each invited two kids. My mom took us to Farrell’s and we ordered “The Zoo.” The Zoo is this massive sundae in a huge bowl, with all kinds of ice cream and toppings and little plastic animals all over it. It takes two waiters to race around the restaurant with a blaring horn carrying this thing, and the whole place goes crazy when they see it! Now that’s a celebration!

On my 16th birthday I passed my driver’s test and got my license. On my 21st birthday I went with my boyfriend to Las Vegas.

And then I had kids, and I remember just about every single one of their birthdays. The first birthday, the Power Ranger birthday, the birthday where we had the critter guy come with a huge snake and all the kids had their pictures taken with it. Then there was the Halloween birthday with all the kids dressed up in costumes, and Dracula came and did magic tricks. My son Brian went through a rather long “Batman” stage so of course we had to have a Batman party.

I married my husband Greg in August, and he had his birthday on our honeymoon. We ate dinner on the beach. It was lovely and romantic, and the first time we celebrated his birthday together!

For my mother’s 60th birthday all she wanted was to get the whole family together – so we all took her out to dinner. She was so happy!

We need to understand that when we remember birthdays, we remember what we did, and who we were with. We don’t necessarily remember the presents. This shows us what is important to us. Let’s have more birthdays.

I can’t believe it has been over 7 years since I first heard that I have a tumor. I know it is crazy but I don’t look at my tumor as being as serious as my cousin’s tumor or my aunt’s tumor — because I survived they didn’t survive.  I guess I am still in total awe that this happened to me.  I was 28 years old and was about to get married to the most wonderful man in the world.

I had migraines that would not go away and finally had to have a CAT scan and one tumor the size of a golf ball was found on my pituitary gland and this doctor walks in and says, “oh, your the one with the tumor.”  Now mind you I just had an aunt that passed away a week before with brain cancer.  So this news was terrifying.  I accepted the news.  Then I went through test after test – like a person without a tumor would not believe – with my arms feeling like I was a pin cushion.  My head was still hurting and I was doped up and couldn’t see and life kinda sucked to be honest.

Thirteen days before the wedding I had the surgery to remove the tumor! Yeah, the doctor got in there and the tumor exploded so they scraped it instead of removing it.  (Must be all the hot air up there!)  They found out that it was benign and it had been building for about 5 years and would possibly come back later in life … oh how I can’t wait…

I was told that I could not have children.  I have 2 now , two handsome boys.  They are the light of my world.  I am now 35 years old and I do take medication to help me with my migraines as of now.  I have my regular checkups every year and have a wonderful set of doctors!

I have volunteered for the American Cancer Society for the past 5 years.  I have been the treasurer, helped with other things and luminary’s.  This year I am the online chair person and I believe I will love it!  Thanks for letting me have another 7 years of life!

Dr. Richard Rolston recently called the American Cancer Society to tell us about an inspiring celebration: His grandmother, cancer survivor Melvine Rolston, will be celebrating her 100th birthday today, June 25! Happy Birthday to Ms. Rolston! She has been cancer free for 60 years and is an inspiration to everyone whose life has been touched by this terrible disease. Here’s what Dr. Rolston had to say:

On June 25 of this year, my grandmother, Melvine Rolston, turns 100 years old. She was diagnosed with breast cancer and underwent a radical (very radical) mastectomy, and her prognosis was not great. Nonetheless, through her grit and determination, plus God’s hand, she has been a breast cancer survivor for 60 years now. On the eve of her 100th birthday, I feel this remarkable fact is something I want to share with you.

She truly has shown that the diagnosis of cancer does not mean a death sentence. Her health remains remarkable. Though blind, she feels her way around her home, still does all of her cooking and most of her cleaning. (Even today, I called her and she was in the middle of scrubbing her floors!) She is mostly deaf, but hears fairly well with the help of hearing aids. Her family and friends are gathering on June 28th in Big Horn, Wyoming, to celebrate this historic birthday with her. Thank you.

Many thanks to Dr. Rolston for sharing this powerful story. We wish Grandma Rolston a wonderful 100th birthday in the mountains, surrounded by family and friends. And here’s to many more! To find out how you can help create a world with less cancer and more birthdays, visit morebirthdays.com.

My name is Christine and I’m a breast cancer survivor. I live in Pottsville, Pennsylvania with my huband Mark, and I’m the mother of two beautiful grown daughters. This week I turn 61.

When I was younger, I had always assumed that I would live to see old age. My mother lived to be 88 and her mother lived to be 103. I had always kept up a healthy lifestyle, swimming during the week and walking on weekends. I was careful about what I ate and how much. There was no history of breast cancer in my family and I went in routinely for medical checkups.

So it came as a surprise when in October of 2005 I received a letter in the mail following my annual checkup. There was an abnormality in my mammogram that upon further investigation was found to be cancer. The small 1.5 cm lump in my breast had already metastasized to 14 lymph nodes in my body, according to the neatly folded form letter. Just like that I went from looking and feeling healthy to fighting for my life.

I’ve never been an emotional person. Most people get existential and cry; they call everyone they know. I just took all the information in and swallowed it. I had my husband for support, and my daughters nearby. I would survive, I told myself.

I was determined to live and I was determined not to let anyone know how scared I was. To keep myself from thinking, I kept busy, scheduling appointments, reading up on my condition. I talked to my husband about procedure, practicalities, order—anything to keep from thinking about how close I was to the edge.

By January I had completed the required evaluative lab tests and received the first of eight chemotherapy treatments. After that there would be 35 sessions of radiation over a period of seven weeks. I had it all calendared and counted the days. I would lose my strength, my hair and my energy, but I would not lose my life.

The miracle is that I did not and I have not.

I have been cancer-free since my treatment, and I no longer take this silvery stage of life for granted. This birthday will be a good one with both my daughters in town, and I already have plans for a 62nd. I’m grateful for every year that I have now, but I’m no longer scared. I’ll go when I’m ready and in the mean time I’ve got things to do. I’ve got places to go, and people to love, and maybe, someday, grandchildren to see. Happy birthday to me.

This week Asha Dornfest from parenting blog Parent Hacks writes about her dear friend Mike Wooldridge’s battle with cancer. Asha and Mike had led parallel lives until one day their paths diverged: at the age of 34 Mike was diagnosed with Stage 3 non-small cell lung cancer. After being told that his chance of survival was 10-15%, Mike conquered the disease and went on to run a marathon, climb Mt. Whitney, and above all cherish his time with his wife Linda and son Griffin.

Mike has fought to achieve more of something we all care about — time. His victory over cancer means more time with the people he loves and more time to celebrate the major milesones in their lives. And that’s what the American Cancer Society’s More Birthdays movement is all about. Read excerpts from the story below:

Breathing New Life: Mike Wooldridge’s Lung Cancer Triumph

Mike Wooldridge and I have always led parallel lives.

He and I were friends in middle- and high school. We went to college at UC Berkeley together, then onto the Web, then to book writing and teaching, and finally plunging into parenthood side-by-side. Our sons were born weeks apart — I still have the blurry picture of our two wrinkly newborns sleeping in their adjacent car seats.

And yet, throughout our almost 30-year friendship (which is saying a lot given that I’m 40), we’re as different as two people can be. In school, while I was hunched over my books, he was riding his skateboard. While I backpacked through Europe, he camped out at Burning Man. I wrote an early book about Web publishing, and he wrote a zine and printed weiner dog posters. I started a parenting blog, he started Pets in Uniform.

… But, at one crucial point, our paths diverged. While I was heads-down in the joyful and confusing details of family life, Mike was diagnosed with cancer.

What started as a minor cough ended in an oncologist’s office with the news that Mike had a fist-sized tumor growing in his right lung. He had Stage 3 non-small cell lung cancer, and, because the size of the tumor made it inoperable, his chance of survival was 10-15%. Mike was 34.

Against those sobering odds, Mike plunged headlong into his treatment. He learned everything he could about the disease, he relied on the support of his incredible wife, family, workplace and network of friends, and — most importantly — he kept his eye trained on his recovery. Doctors were flabbergasted when chemotherapy shrunk Mike’s tumor to an operable size. They removed the tumor and a significant portion of his lung. A year and a half after his diagnosis, Mike ran the Vancouver International Marathon.

Mike says that cancer has made possible a vitality and an immediacy that he never knew existed. Without cancer, he may have never had the motivation or courage — or even the inclination — to run a marathon, or climb Mt. Whitney, or hike to Machu Picchu. More importantly, the time he spends with his wife, Linda, and his son, Griffin, is a gift Mike never takes for granted.

Mike’s beaten cancer in that he’s alive today. But he might say it differently: he’s alive today because of cancer.

Thanks to Asha for sharing this touching story. To help create a world where cancer never steals another year of anyone’s life, visit morebirthdays.com.