Tinged Pink: When The Cancer Narrative Can't Compass Your Loss
Erika Anderson · 10/25/14 01:19PM![](http://d20hvt89h2l7r8.cloudfront.net/dvxgv0oyzzmluetqxcgq/c_scale,fl_progressive,q_80,w_800.jpg)
Four years ago, a woman I love—a friend who felt sisterly and vibrant—died of breast cancer. She was 33. I feel like I must spell it out: thirty-three. I want to paint it on a brick wall in the middle of the night. I want to wear it like the scarlet letter A. I want every billboard to read two numbers: 3 and 3.