I was a preemie, born 14 weeks too soon. Doctors said I might never walk. Every day, my grandfather held me in the NICU, whispering, “Be a fighter.” Thirty years later, when he learned he had cancer, I signed up to run the Boston Marathon for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. We talked before long runs and from post-training ice baths, laughing at the lengthening miles. He died four days before Marathon Monday. My grandmother said, “Run for him.” I did, his photo pinned above my heart for 26.2 miles, from Main Street in Hopkinton to Boylston Street in Boston. — Samantha Facciolo

Positively Purging-I welcome your feedbacks in the comments and your likes and passing the real life wisdom on to others as I embark on this new venture of “positively purging“, as I know each of these pieces represents something…