Sometimes the most powerful messages come from the hardest places. Holly Butcher, a young Australian woman diagnosed with a rare bone cancer (Ewing’s sarcoma), faced her last days with courage, clarity, and compassion. The day before she died on January 4, 2018, she published a letter titled “A bit of life advice from Hol.”
What she left behind is not a mourning lament but a gift — a blueprint for how to live when time is precious.
Her post struck a chord around the world. Shared, translated, reprinted countless times, it resonated because she spoke honestly about things many of us forget until it’s too late.
What Holly Taught Us
Below are key lessons she wove into her letter, and reflections on how we might try to carry them forward.
1. Life is fragile. Each day is a gift.
Holly wrote, “Life is fragile, precious, and unpredictable … each day is a gift, not a given right.”
She noted how many of us move through time assuming tomorrow will come, planning far ahead, imagining growing old. But her diagnosis forced her to see that tomorrow is never guaranteed.
Try this: When a small frustration—traffic, a delay, an argument—rises up, pause. Remind yourself that today is not promised. Let that reframe how you respond.
2. Stop obsessing over bodies or perfection.
She challenged us to stop criticizing ourselves: “Your body is your home — treat it with kindness.”
Even as she watched her body weaken, she reminded readers how meaningless many of our beauty standards and comparisons are when faced with life’s real stakes.
Try this: The next time you feel self-conscious, shift the focus to what the body does for you — allows you to walk, hug, sense, speak. Let gratitude soften critique.
3. Be present. Love deeply. Show up fully.
She urged people to put down phones and not miss life by living through filters. She encouraged saying “I love you” more, forgiving faster, hugging longer.
Presence matters more than perfection or image.
Try this: During conversations, set aside screens. Listen. Ask questions. Laugh. Let those moments root you in what’s real.
4. Collect moments, not things.
Holly wrote, “Spend your money on experiences … say yes to life.”
She saw how little value material possessions have when compared to memories, time with loved ones, acts of kindness.
Try this: Next purchase, ask: is this thing or this memory more meaningful? Prioritize trips, nature, music, meals together over accumulating stuff.
5. Feel, grieve, but don’t stay stuck.
Her message wasn’t to suppress pain. She said: cry, grieve, be real. But also, don’t let bitterness become a prison.
thelawofattraction.com
Loss and struggle are part of life—but they don’t have to define every day.
Try this: When difficult emotions arise, allow them space. Journaling, a conversation, or simply letting tears come can free the heart to heal.
6. If something drains you, change it.
“Do what makes your heart happy,” she said. “If something is making you miserable … you do have the power to change it.”
Rare Cancers Australia
Holly urged us not to feel trapped—to say “no,” to let go of situations, jobs, relationships that deplete us.
Try this: List what in your life drains energy. For one small thing, ask: what step can I take to shift it? Even tiny change matters.
7. Donate blood. Save lives.
In her final message, Holly made a humble but profound request: give blood. She said blood donations kept her alive an extra year—time she cherished.
The Australian Red Cross and others echoed her plea, noting how crucial regular blood donations are for cancer patients undergoing treatment.
Try this: If you’re eligible where you live, consider becoming a regular blood donor. It’s one of the easiest, most tangible ways to give life.
Why Holly’s Message Still Matters
Holly didn’t get to live her full, long story. She never had weddings, many birthdays, or children. Yet her words became her legacy.
Her advice lives in people who tighten their hugs, lower their screens, pick experiences over stuff—and roll up their sleeves to donate blood.
Her story reminds us: we aren’t promised tomorrow, but today is ours. It asks us not to wait for tragedy to teach gratitude or love. It challenges us to wake up.
Let us accept Holly’s gift. Not with sorrow, but with resolve: to live more fully, love more bravely, and give more generously.
Because life is fragile—but also beautiful. And our best chance is here.
Leave a Reply