When you walk into Jennifer Sabounchi's house, there's a good chance you'll be greeted by a mother and daughter in full princess and queen regalia.


The better question is, why not?

"Mommy looks fabulous in this wig," laughs Jennifer.

"You're the queen, Mom," replies her daughter Ahzi.

Jennifer and her husband Kevin were living a beautiful life in Edmonds, Wash.

They had their baby girl Ahzi and were finally getting ready to buy a modest home in the neighborhood they loved.

It was last Thanksgiving, one of their favorite times of year.

But there was something lurking in the back of Jennifer's mind.

"I was scared and I thought, uh, oh, what does this mean?" she recalls.

Jennifer had been feeling sick.

It turned out to be a late stage genetic cancer -- the very same cancer that killed her mother when she was just 37.

Jennifer is now 37.

Ahzi is only 3.

"This was my biggest fear. Imagine losing your mom young, watching her go through a really painful death," says Jennifer, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I never wanted that to happen. Now, the one thing I was scared of is happening."

Doctors say Jennifer will be lucky to live four more years, but she's not preparing for death.

She's preparing for life.

The couple went ahead and bought that house in the neighborhood they love thanks to these words from Jennifer's dad.

"I don't care if you're here for a year or a day, you cannot stop dreaming."

Jennifer once dreamed of being a writer.

So a few weeks ago, she pursued an opportunity at the Edmonds News where she now writes a weekly column about her life.

Jennifer says, why not?

"What I get to show Ahzi is that dreams do come true and to never count herself out because I should be in that bed planning a will, but I'm not doing it."

One year since that devastating diagnosis, it's time for another Thanksgiving. If this family had one gift to give to their daughter, and to you, it would be this message: buy that house, pursue that dream, wear that princess dress, and find the good in everything -- even the stuff that seems the worst because -- why not?

"I have so much more to be thankful for than I do to complain about, that's for sure," says Jennifer. "We are determined to continue to find life in my death, and so far we're living. We're living."