These these life & death portraits and the accompanying stories express in so many ways what I feel every day. That life is too short to put off happiness for some future date:
Gerda couldn’t believe that cancer was cheating her of her hard-earned retirement. “My whole life was nothing but work, work, work,” she told me. She had worked on the assembly line in a soap factory, and had brought up her children single-handedly. “Does it really have to happen now? Can’t death wait?” she sobbed.
And the subtext of this photo essay? Cancer fucking sucks.