Save Second Base
Cancer Sucks is a hat I used to wear all the time. It was a heather green hat that said, "Cancer Sucks," on the front of it. When I was in marketing/event planning we did the inaugural fundraising event, probono, for a foundation called Ivan and Sam. The foundation was on the basis of teaching and talking to kids who are fighting cancer. It was a success and we raised a few thousand dollars. I know one question I want to ask God when I get to meet him is, "why do kids get sick?" Ryan and I were dealt the hand of cards, that cancer might touch a person very near and dear to my heart. We were in our kitchen and I remember asking him, "do you think it is harder to lose a child or as a child to lose a parent?" We both agreed that adults have the mental maturity to deal with losing a child, while a child who loses a parent, if not in the right circumstances, stays lost. It just so happens that that is the hand we have to play; cancer sucks. The diagnosis came just minutes ago. This person has been the one constant since I was born. The only person who has never left my side, the reason I am the person I am today. Absolutely amazing.
My "parents" did not get married until the summer before third grade, and that is when my childhood started. We had a family. A father who was committed, who would not turn his back on his family and just walk out one day and not return; blood related or not. A mother who was committed, just as much as she had always been, and gaining a couple of kids in the process of saying I DO to a man who truly loved her. We were a family. There was not "step-this or step-that". From the day my parents said, "I do," I had the most perfect childhood. My parents raised all four of us with our feet on the ground, strong moral values and the tools needed to lead an independent life. I hope I am half of the parent to my children that they were; and are to me.
I never saw the loss of Adalynne on my radar, but I am more blindsided by this diagnosis. I really and truly thought with everything our family has been through this last year we would "catch a break." This is not the first time cancer has touched my family. Years ago, before I was born, I had a cousin who was given the diagnosis of cancer. She fought, her parents fought, my family fought, everyone did, with all their might, but they did not win and at four years old she lost her battle. The aunt whose daughter this was, we have always had this really tight connection. Everyone says that I am my aunt made over. Even though she is so petite that I tower over her, we look a lot alike. I don't know if this connection we have always felt was in some way a preparation for what was to come in me losing a child or what. But, in the first several weeks and months after Adalynne left this world my aunt was there like no one could be. I was walking the same familiar path she had so many years earlier. I could call her with crazy questions or thoughts, and she knew exactly where I was coming from. I remember one call in particular. I was having a rough time, in regards to feeling so sad and crying all the time, and she told me, " I am so sorry baby, but this is just something you have to do it's part of it." it was not something I had wanted to hear, but I knew deep down she was right.
Cancer sucks, losing a child sucks, the unknown sucks. And I am truly scared. With Adalynne the odds were in our favor; at first. The chances of her actually having what she had were so slim... The odds are in our favor with this cancer diagnosis, but "odds" don't like me or my family. I always thought the shirt or bumper sticker that said, "Save the TA TA's" was so crude and vulgar; but you know what...let's save them; better yet let's save second base. No, I am not that creative, I saw that on a shirt too. If I shave my head and get one of those vulgar sayings tattooed on it, to make us have a good outcome ,I will. Goodness life is so full of ups and downs. I am so grateful I have an amazing family who I can lean on, and who can lean on me in our times of the unknown. For what I do know is that I am headed to Arizona the first week or second week in August. I want to be there for my mom's surgery. Hold her hand tight and her head up in this challenging time, just like she has always held mine.
My "parents" did not get married until the summer before third grade, and that is when my childhood started. We had a family. A father who was committed, who would not turn his back on his family and just walk out one day and not return; blood related or not. A mother who was committed, just as much as she had always been, and gaining a couple of kids in the process of saying I DO to a man who truly loved her. We were a family. There was not "step-this or step-that". From the day my parents said, "I do," I had the most perfect childhood. My parents raised all four of us with our feet on the ground, strong moral values and the tools needed to lead an independent life. I hope I am half of the parent to my children that they were; and are to me.
I never saw the loss of Adalynne on my radar, but I am more blindsided by this diagnosis. I really and truly thought with everything our family has been through this last year we would "catch a break." This is not the first time cancer has touched my family. Years ago, before I was born, I had a cousin who was given the diagnosis of cancer. She fought, her parents fought, my family fought, everyone did, with all their might, but they did not win and at four years old she lost her battle. The aunt whose daughter this was, we have always had this really tight connection. Everyone says that I am my aunt made over. Even though she is so petite that I tower over her, we look a lot alike. I don't know if this connection we have always felt was in some way a preparation for what was to come in me losing a child or what. But, in the first several weeks and months after Adalynne left this world my aunt was there like no one could be. I was walking the same familiar path she had so many years earlier. I could call her with crazy questions or thoughts, and she knew exactly where I was coming from. I remember one call in particular. I was having a rough time, in regards to feeling so sad and crying all the time, and she told me, " I am so sorry baby, but this is just something you have to do it's part of it." it was not something I had wanted to hear, but I knew deep down she was right.
Cancer sucks, losing a child sucks, the unknown sucks. And I am truly scared. With Adalynne the odds were in our favor; at first. The chances of her actually having what she had were so slim... The odds are in our favor with this cancer diagnosis, but "odds" don't like me or my family. I always thought the shirt or bumper sticker that said, "Save the TA TA's" was so crude and vulgar; but you know what...let's save them; better yet let's save second base. No, I am not that creative, I saw that on a shirt too. If I shave my head and get one of those vulgar sayings tattooed on it, to make us have a good outcome ,I will. Goodness life is so full of ups and downs. I am so grateful I have an amazing family who I can lean on, and who can lean on me in our times of the unknown. For what I do know is that I am headed to Arizona the first week or second week in August. I want to be there for my mom's surgery. Hold her hand tight and her head up in this challenging time, just like she has always held mine.
oh my heavens... please call me as soon as you are free so we can chat.
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