Unfortunately, it’s a word I’ve been hearing a lot lately.

What’s odd is that cancer is a central theme on one of my must-see television shows, “Brothers and Sisters.” A main character, played by Calista Flockhart, has lymphoma and is dealing with the effects of chemotherapy.

Now I know this is just a television show, and I have no idea how true to life it is regarding the cancer story line. But I know it leaves me in tears nearly every episode.

I’m a pretty firm believer that everything happens for a reason. We may not know the reason right away – or ever – but one exists, nonetheless.

I’ve been hard-pressed to figure out reasons for some recent circumstances. I have learned that those whose lives have been touched by cancer – in real life; not on TV – are strong people.

A good friend survived brain cancer nine years ago, after undergoing surgery and chemotherapy. She has traveled to the Cities for three-month, then six-month checkups ever since, always with successful outcomes.

Until her last visit in September. She admitted she had been thinking the day of travel, tests and doctor visits would be somewhat a waste of a day when there were many other things to do. After all, she’d been cancer-free for years and felt fine.

Then the doctor revealed he’d seen something suspicious. He ordered another appointment in three months to check again.

So my friend, who just turned 40, headed home with her husband to their children, wondering what was going on and what the next three to six months hold. So we wait to find out. All we can do is pray and be there for them when they need to talk, hoping for the best and not entertaining even a thought of the worst.

We all have to be strong for each other.

The day I heard that news, I met Alison and Ron Collins of Jenkins.

I was writing a story about Alison, who has Stage IV breast cancer, for our Think Pink special section about breast cancer awareness. Luckily, Alison is doing OK after back surgery and a double mastectomy in 2008; her cancer is contained.

Alison’s story included the story of her husband, Ron, a hospice patient who had Stage IV lung cancer. Ron was feeling pretty good the day I visited their home, and after seeing him and visiting with him, I couldn’t believe he was supposed to be near death.

Ron looked good, though he moved a little slowly and sounded tired when talking. That day, he certainly didn’t look like a man who was dying.

I followed the couple’s CaringBridge Web site and soon learned Ron could no longer leave his bed, then could no longer talk. Last week, Ron died. He was 55 and has two sons, ages 5 and 7.

“We’re a half-full family,” Alison told me that day in early October at her home. “They say cancer can bring you closer. If nothing else, it has given us time to be together.”

“I’m a firm believer that God has a plan for us,” Ron told me. “You find out who cares about you when you’re sick.”

Strong people, to say the least.

Just last week, I met John Kloster. I knew he was an optometrist in Pequot Lakes; my to-do list has included calling Pequot Eye Center to make January appointments for my family members who have never visited an optometrist.

John is in the process of selling his practice in Pequot Lakes and Crosslake after learning just a few weeks ago that he has an aggressive brain tumor. He’s 45, with a wife and three children. He was told he has a year to live, and will soon begin chemotherapy and radiation to stunt the tumor’s growth.

I can’t begin to imagine where a family finds the strength to accept that diagnosis.

You don’t have to know my friend, the Collins family or the Kloster family – or the numerous other families out there with similar stories about cancer or other issues – personally to feel for them. You don’t have to know them personally to pray for them and hope for the best.

For these families whom I feel have personally affected me, as well as all the other families others know with similar circumstances, we can be strong for them.