Shannon Forde, who has worked in the PR department for the New York Mets for almost half her life, whose life changed because cancer came crashing into it one summer day in 2012, will attend Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade with her husband and her two children today.

As she does, she will do what she has tried to do since a diagnosis that was supposed to be about Stage 4 breast cancer became one about cancer that had spread from a single lymph node into her bones:

She will try to make another memory today sitting in the grandstand near Macy’s, for herself and for her family, the life of that family changed forever because of the diagnosis she got three days after her daughter’s second birthday. You hear about standing up to cancer, see it in wonderful television commercials. At one of the ceremonies for the All-Star Game at Citi Field, Matt Harvey stood up with a sign that had Shannon Forde’s name on it.

Shannon Forde (it is pronounced Ford) stands up to it in her own life by living her life.

“It’s not just the parade, all of us getting to go to the parade for the first time,” she is saying. “It’s the family time. All of that is even more precious now than it’s ever been. But this is one more thing off the bucket list.”

Then she says, “Everything is more important now.”

Shannon Forde’s grace and strength and courage as she fights cancer are no more important than the fight any child fights against that disease, no more important than any family member you know with cancer, or the friend, the family member you have already lost to cancer, or the friend.

But she is a part of the Mets family, a member of the baseball family of the city. And so on this Thanksgiving, which she will celebrate with the famous parade of the city and then go home to a meal prepared by her mother and her sister, this is her story today.

We talk all the time about how tough athletes are, how they play through pain and injury. They are tough, of course they are, and they do play through all those things. But as they do, know that at this time in New York sports, there is nobody tougher than Shannon Forde.

It was Ron Darling who organized a truly spectacular benefit last fall to help raise money for Shannon Forde’s medical expenses. He has spoken eloquently about her before, and did that again on the day before Thanksgiving, 2013.

“Toughness comes in so many forms,” Darling said. “If you’re of a certain age, you remember how tough a guy like Dick Butkus was. You remember the famous picture of Y.A. Tittle on his knees, bleeding on the side of his head. So you grow up with that. And then you know someone like Shannon, see how real toughness is shown to the world with news that would devastate the rest of us. You see the way she lives her life now, not only suffering quietly, but continuing to do her job at the same high level she always has. And then when it becomes public, what she is going through, she is humbled and embarrassed by the attention she gets.”

She began working for Jay Horwitz — Jay always treating her like family, from the first day — in the Mets’ public relations department at the age of 22. So it will be 20 years for her as a Met in January.

“As a mom,” Shannon Forde says, “I think my job was sometimes more of a priority than it should be.”

So she was doing her job in the baseball summer of 2012, having just returned home after being in Kansas City for the All-Star Game, doing research for the All-Star Game she knew was coming to Citi Field in July of ’13. But she wasn’t feeling well, had been experiencing pain that was getting worse, was examined by doctors, was told she had breast cancer.

And before she could process that, almost before the conversations with the breast surgeon had begun, then came an MRI and a CAT scan and a bone scan and the news that the cancer had spread. This is how it happens sometimes, cancer kicking down the door this way.

“At first,” she says, “I just thought it was a large mass that could be cut out of my right breast. Before I knew it they were talking about my spine. Hips. Right thigh.”

So there was the life she had before news like this, her office going from old Shea Stadium to Citi Field, and then the life the day cancer came for her, a life whose capital is the John Theurer Cancer Center at the Hackensack University Medical Center, not so terribly far from her home in Little Ferry, N.J.

For now, there is no surgery that can stop the disease. Her treatment is built around, and upon, hormonal treatments, pills and shots, to stop her body from producing estrogen, as her doctors have determined that her cancer is estrogen-based.

“If we can cut off the supply of estrogen, the cancer has nothing to feed on,” Shannon Forde says, and then she tells you about the danger of surgery, the risk that “opening me up” might allow the cancer to spread to major organs.

I ask her how she is doing, and she says the same thing she always does:

“I am doing good.”

She says: “I am better today than when I was first diagnosed.”

I ask her how she is a different person now, apart from the cancer, than when she found out what she found out in August of 2012.

“In some ways,” she says, “I don’t feel as if I’m any different at all. I think the biggest change is how you become so much more aware of time. Hey, if everything stays the same I could live another 30 or 40 years like this. I could live that long. Or something could change and I might not be here next year.”

“This is our prayer,” Ron Darling said on Wednesday. “Our prayer is that a lifetime of being good will bring its own reward to Shannon Forde.”

She is still at Citi Field three days a week, at Hackensack University Medical Center the other two days, the trip to the hospital only about 10 minutes, much longer than her commute to the Mets, to baseball, to the only professional life she has ever known. And if you did not know she was sick, if you did not know how everything had changed for her behind her smile, you could think nothing had changed for Shannon Forde.

“She thinks we’re supporting her,” Mets COO Jeff Wilpon says. “And she never seems to realize that her strength supports the rest of us.”

“I think about the dinner we had, and the people who showed up out of love for Shannon,” Ron Darling says, “and all I can tell you is that it doesn’t happen that way for everyone.”