Cancer is a giant b****.

All I can think about today is how much cancer really, really, really sucks. How in 2012, when we can clone sheep and put all of our music on an inch square electronic device, we still cannot get a handle on this horrible disease. This disease that takes so many forms, and ravages so many people, and ends so many lives far too early, and tears others completely apart. How it doesn't discriminate who it attacks - how it doesn't just stick to the bad people, or the unhealthy people, or the people with the right risk factors. How it can decide that the lungs of an otherwise healthy, non-smoking woman in her late 30s are the perfect place for it to set up shop, and not give any clues that its there until its pretty much too late.

I met Ali a few years ago at a Sister Hazel and Pat McGee show at Wolf Trap. I made a bunch of new friends that night, some that I've become very close to and others that I see now and then but always enjoy. Ali is one of the second half - not someone that I became very close to, but someone that I'm always happy to see, usually out at a show. Nearly two years ago, Ali was diagnosed with Stage 4 lung cancer after going to the doctor for a headache she couldn't get rid of. She knew from the start that it was incurable, but she has fought incredibly hard, and been an inspiration to everyone who knows her. This morning, I woke up to the news that there is nothing more the doctors can do for her, and she's now in hospice care. Basically, she's nearing the end of her fight and the primary objective from here on out is to keep her as comfortable as possible. And that really, really sucks.

I've spoken many times about the music family and community that I'm lucky to be a part of. Not just the Rock Boat family, although that makes up a very large part of it. And when any part of a family hurts, the whole family hurts, or at least it should. Just because Ali and I aren't close doesn't make it any easier to process this news, or make me think about her any less, or make it any easier to focus on anything besides her today. All it does is make me hate cancer more.

Ali, I'm so proud of you for fighting. I'm so proud of how optimistic you've remained through all of this, and how your spirit has shone even through this disease that has broken not just the bodies but the souls of so many. I'm proud to know you, and I thank you for touching my life. I hope that someday, someone will find a cure for this horrible, awful, terrible disease. And I pray for peace and comfort for you now, and that you feel the love being sent your way from so many right now.