Diablo Lake is in the North Cascades National Park. It is Tracy has marked it off her Bucket List of national park visits this week. That news is “gooder than grits.” Paddleboarding, rafting, and s’mores nightly. The woman is a perpetual machine of life, love, and laughter. All this despite the ovarian cancer mess she’s been dealing with for almost two decades. Tracy is an “adopted.” No, I don’t mean “adopted” like that; you see, I adopt “daughters and nieces,” my wife says. In this case, I adopted a “niece.” She is the oldest of three daughters of my “spiritual brother” Bob. Brother Bob, his wife Marcia, and I have known each other for over 50 years. Bob and I have shared some fine Bourbons and adventures. Our families have had some fine fish fries and a whole mess of greens together over the years. We recently removed one of his bucket items. We did New Zealand. We’re into the Bucket List thing if you couldn’t tell. But we will never catch up with Tracy. Surgery, nor chemo, nor all the mainstream treatments slow her down. Well, maybe the bed confinement, nausea, and diarrhea now and then. Not for long. Her approach and attitude about such things make her unique. I adore that about her. She is an Alpha Omicron Pi (AOII), a national college women’s sorority. I wouldn’t know about such things, but they have set up a scholarship in her honor. Right out of school, she became a traveling consultant for AOII. Later, as the CEO, she led CampusSpeak, a professional speakers’ organization, working her way up from an employee. When she saw the issues with hazing, a national disgrace, she founded a nonprofit called HazingPrevention.org. She became a national spokesperson and was even on NBC News. You get the idea. See a problem, deal with it. Move on. Life is not a dress rehearsal. In 2006, she confronted the cancer and started an arduous learning, exploring, and engaging in an optimistic journey about her health. She wrote a book, Being Single With Cancer: A Solo Survivor’s Guide to Life, Love, Health, and Happiness. Throughout this medical odyssey, she guided on the rivers of Colorado and Utah, leading multi-day trips down the rapids. She seeks humor from Tig Notaro, Steve Martin, Martin Short, or David Sedaris. Humor is good for the soul and healing. Or, she is walking, hiking, dining with friends, ghost-writing, catching up on her reading, or showing off her post-chemo hairstyle. I will see her in September and tell her that, as she already knows, the time “between the dashes” on the tombstone matters in our lives. We will share a long hug. And I will tell her how much I love her. Oh, I just did, but I will repeat it. That’s what “Uncles” do.