On April 7th 2003, the loved ones of Cathy Miller lost her to cancer only 14 weeks after she was diagnosed as a stage four terminal patient.
Surely, the fondest memories of Cathy were her uncanny ability to inspire admiration and awe while never intimidating or arousing
jealously in anyone. When she entered a room - dressed in a signa-
ture white outfit, adorned with a pearl necklace - thick, tousled
auburn hair and a killer smile - all heads would turn because she was the definition of elegance!
Furthermore, no else could wear a man's starched shirt, with the
collar up and a pair of jeans with as much flair or look so good so fast. It was as if she walked off a magazine cover every time you saw her
- whenever or wherever that was.
Even more remarkable, only her mother rivaled Cathy in her ability to open a refrigerator and quickly create a sumptuous meal from its random contents.
However, Cathy's grace, beauty and style paled in comparison to the degree of compassion she extended to everyone - particularly those battling cancer. Her compassion was most acutely manifested when she waged her own battle with terminal lung cancer.
Her attending oncologists at the Fox Chase Cancer Center recommended a series of clinical drugs and procedures. One of the procedures held no possible benefit of a cure for Cathy - and could very possibly prove to be further debilitating to her condition. When presented with that outcome, she responded without hesitation, "If it might Help Another Person fighting cancer in the future, then I want the procedure done!"