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On the 11th of every month you usually see us bring you a cancer survivor's story. The idea is to use that survivor's information, so if you're experiencing what they did, you get help early. But the sad reality is cancer is Alaska's the number one killer; and cancer indiscriminately never listens to that old saying: No parent should ever have to burry their child.

I had hoped, one day, to bring you my friend Celia Carloni's survivor's story. I thought I'd be asking her if she'd want to do it any day now. You see, all of us who loved Celia thought she was about to enter remission.

    She had planned her party.
    She looked healthier then ever.
    She was doing great.

Then, unexpectedly, she

died last week.
But in a strong way, Celia is still here...teaching so many of us simply by the way she always lived.

"And when I started playing (my guitar), she recognized it. It was amazing. That...you think your baby's in the belly, out of sight, out of mind. That wasn't the case at all. She just didn't get startled. She smiled. And she was all turned on by this music that was familiar to her," said Ray Carloni, Celia's dad.

On an October 1985 day, Celia Carloni truly brought a cliché to life: "gracing the world with her presence," and then owning that saying. For the next 22 years--maybe it was on purpose; or maybe she had no idea--but one look and you knew Celia was purely full of life.

"The word that came to my mind was, 'vibrant,'" said Elaine Selby, Celia's mom.

"She had a sharp sense of humor, didn't she?" said Ray Carloni.

It was remarkably funny humor: humor mixed with raw honesty--laugh out loud punch lines only Celia could get away with. This was true even when she was telling all her loved ones she had cancer.

"...and I mean, she was just being funny. She said, "It's Tommy the tumor." She's going to get rid of him. She wanted to deliver him," said Ray Carloni.

Before Tommy's

discovery, she had spent months of endless guessing why her hip hurt.

"And she just said, 'Oh Mom, my hip hurts so bad,'" said Selby.

Finally, Celia did what she hated: she went to the doctor. The doctor did not like what he saw and sent her to Seattle.

"All the great minds in Seattle got together. And Celia's case kind of stumped them," said Selby.

...until the answer came.

    Sarcoma.

It was an extremely rare tissue cancer she was told only chemotherapy, radiation and even having her hip removed would fix.

Celia did it on one condition: she could be back in Alaska ASAP.

"She said, 'I want to get on that plane and I want to get home. I want to see my Ryan. I want to see my dad. I want to see my

family and friends.' And she just got on that tarmac and I didn't know she could go that fast on those crutches," said Selby.

And that's when Celia's spirit really started to show. She continued quietly doing what she had to do to fight her cancer, but while always living life.

"I came home and I was expecting to see her over the toilet throwing up. And she wasn't home. And I said, 'Celia, where are you?' And she said, 'I'm at Applebee's having lunch with my friends,'" said Selby.

"She just didn't focus on it. Avoidance was her main mode of operation. If you wanted to make her mad, talk about it. She just wanted life to go on," said Ray Carloni.

"Life was going on; she was working; she was getting radiation; going to

work; making customers happy; selling jewelry; making people laugh; going out. She was going out to a party last Saturday where everybody was there," said Selby.

But Celia had not told most folks about her headaches. And just three days after that party, the Celia everyone just knew was about to enter remission, instead entered the ER. Emergency surgery showed the cancer had spread to her brain.

"Yeah. I didn't want her to suffer. She had enough obstacles without pain," said Ray Carloni.

"And we knew that if we would've tried to keep Celia alive, she wouldn't of been able to dance. She wouldn't of been able to talk. She wouldn't of been able to visit with her friends and laugh. And it was very clear that her time here was done. And we, her father and I, and her boyfriend Ryan, we all let her go. We released her. And I know I did what Celia would've wanted done. 'cause if she couldn't of gone to girls night out, if she couldn't of gone to visit her friends, if she couldn't of kept up her blogs on MySpace, it wouldn't of been worth it for her," said Selby.

What was worth it for Celia was living life completely.

Throughout Celia's struggle, she kept a Beach Boy song playing on her MySpace page. She believed God only knew how things would end. But inherent in that, she knew no matter how things turned out, the faith she put in friendships and love would live on forever.

"Cee liked relationships. She'd hold onto friends forever and ever. I think it's probably something I learned from her more than anything else: that people count. I think we all remember Celia in a great way. She was fun. And she touched us. She's a very fond memory now; and I look forward to seeing her again," said Ray Carloni.

"But Celia, where ever you are, and I think I know where you are, I miss you. And we all do here. And I hope when I get my work done here, and I think I still have a few things to do, I hope I get to see you again," said Selby.

While Celia's mom says they were not able to celebrate her survival, they have something tangible to celebrate:

    Celia's memory.

Celia's memory will be celebrated at the Relay for Life: the American Cancer Society's annual fundraiser. This year there's going to be a Team Celia.

Relay for Life kicked off last weekend. If you would like to get involved, just click on the Relay for Life logo.

To contact Matthew, call 907-273-3186.