The true warriors.

It has been almost 3 weeks since I have decided to not only be the event organizer, but to be a shavee this year for St. Baldrick's Albany 2012.

This decision did not come lightly. For too long, there has always been an excuse. Always been a ready reason to not participate in such a way that is the basis of this amazing event. A wedding. A vacation. A job. A request. This is the year for me to get rid of them all. To answer only to myself the question of "Why not?"

There have been some people have asked me whether or not I have really "thought it through."

My answer to them has and will always, remain the same. "Hair grows back. It's for the kids. I'm only shaving my head. THEY are the true warriors."

But then?

I get emails. And Facebook posts. And texts. And messages. And blog posts by cousins, or best friends from far away who are helping me to spread the word of this foundation.

And their words are inspiring. They are uplifting. They are encouraging. They are supportive.

They often make me cry as I sit and read them, as I smile and ask myself how it is that I got to be as lucky as I am to have the supportive friends and family around me that I do.

I have parents who love and support me. I have friends and family members who are Facebook blasting my fundraising page in order to continue to spread the word. And for them? There are not enough words to say thank you over the past 3 weeks.

And I have the honor of being able to spread the stories of those children whom I know, or have known, who have fought or are fighting the beast that is pediatric cancers. It is these stories of the families who have allowed me to shave my head in honor of their children that truly are uplifting and amazing.

And it is these families and children that I am so thankful to have known for even just a moment throughout their battle.

When you think about that, their battles?

Hair doesn't seem like much to give at all.

An Evening of Will Power

Sorry all, this post has been a long time coming.

On April 24, JM and I were able to attend the First Annual Evening of Will Power, hosted by the Brave Will Foundation. This foundation was started last year after a couple, Matt and Tammy, lost their 6 month old son, to cancer. AT/RT to be exact, which is an absolutely devastating form of cancer. One that has few treatment options, and one that has very little research. One that comes with a crushing feeling. I can't begin to tell their story, but I will say that their family has touched both mine and JM's life forever.

At the time of Will's diagnosis, JM was working on the pediatric floor of Albany Med at nights. He was one of the many people who fell in love with, and became attached to this baby, and his family, over night. They are a family that exudes love, humility, grace and strength, even through the worst of their cancer treatments. Through the worst of their fears and the worst of their struggles. When they were told that their son wasn't going to make it through the weekend. When he responded to treatment, and they were given hope. And when they were told that the cancer had spread and it was time to focus on the time they had left. They were courageous. They were pillars of strength. They are to be admired.

Will eventually responded enough to treatment to get discharged from the inpatient floor, and come into the clinic where my office is to receive outpatient chemo, which is where I fell in love with his family immediately. I had heard stories from JM about them, and he was right. They too, are adults with young children whom he and I look up to, just as So-Ro's family is.

These are some pictures from the event, which is raising money to help fund the palliative care program and to help fund the social workers who work with families, not just patients, while they are facing such times of uncertainty.

Their logo.

Their Mission Statement, which is truly impressive and inspiring. This is a foundation who has come from the depths of despair to try to help other families who are facing uncertain times just as they have.

The picture that is also the cover of their book, which is a compilation of all of the journal entries that Matt wrote while Will was going through treatment. (Suggestion: Please be sure to have a box of tissues readily available).

This is a "picture of a picture" that was taken of Matt and Tammy's two other sons, after Will's passing. They too, are absolutely phenomenal boys, who make you smile, and truly present themselves the way that every parent hopes and wishes that their child will turn out. (It also doesn't hurt that they are fabulously photogenic, and completely and fantastically cute).

The wall of pictures that were hung up during the gala, from times of hospital stays, last days, and the time after Will's passing.

So, to those people who are looking for a way to help, buy a copy of Matt's book here and also learn more about their foundation.

To Matt and Tammy, and the rest of the people who are making this foundation into something that is truly going to affect people's lives, you are amazing. You are parents who love to such an extent that it brings tears to peoples' eyes and truly changes their lives. You are parents who have such strength that even through the turns in the road that would break most people, you have risen. You have given each and every person who meets you, or hears of Will's story something to keep in mind during the toughest of days. You have changed people's lives for the better, making us better people, better friends, better families, and better couples.

Thank you.

There's beauty in the breakdown (and other random updates)

***Before we get to the rest of the post. I am impressed by the people who have voted in the poll about my hair. Not gonna lie, I measured it on Sunday, and it's looking like I am going to be able to donate a LOT. Definitely more than 8 inches, because let's face it, I have definitely had my eyes peeled for super cute "short bobs" recently. And photo suggestions are appreciated. But seriously. 8 inches is NOT that much (hahah that's what she said!)***

So, as many of you (yay!!! 12!) are probably dying to know... the breakdown has come (and gone, for the most part).

After attending So-Ro's wake last Tuesday, I found it hard to write.
I found it hard to breathe, or speak or do anything, but cry.
And eat carbs.
(Which we are severely officially imiting due to the fact that it's now FEBRUARY which means that I need to get my butt in gear/shape for the rest of... uh. my life.)

But after watching a family stand so stoically beside their 6 year old daughter and comforting the people who waited in an almost 2 hour long line (and Mom was in heels no less!) I lost it.
Such a beautiful child, taken much too soon, and a family who has lost a ray of its sunshine who shared light and love and laughter, even in the grayest of times.
A family that can define themselves by the grace that they maintain, the strength that they show others, and the love they have for eachother and for the life and experiences they had with a beautiful, brave, graceful, smiling, laughing daughter, sister, niece, granddaughter and friend.

I remember telling Mom So-Ro, that I had decided that I have many role models in life. You have the role models as a child that you want to "be" when you grow up. But once you reach adulthood, I have realized that there are many different "life stage" role models. Mom So-Ro is the mother I hope to be, to the children I one day hope to have. The mother who is able to stand in the face of complete uncertainty and hardship and think about someone else, while they themselves are crumbling. The mother who gives themselves so completely to their children that a piece of her is forever with each of them. To be the mother who is the rock to all those around her because she is so completely with them, and they with her.

JM asked if I wanted to talk about it when I got home. After shaking my head "no," and sitting in a kitchen table chair for about 20 minutes, he came back to the table, looked at me with a bewildered almost expression and said "I don't know if you want me around or if you want to just be right now." It was comforting, and exactly what I needed. I then proceeded to tell him that once the tears stopped, I was definitely going to need him to just hold my hand and my heart. Which at that point, couldn't handle being alone.

That's the funny thing about loving someone. Their pain is yours, and yours is theirs. And sometimes, if you're lucky, you find friends, a partner, or just acquaintances who give you a hug (or a big tip if you're bartending which is similiar to a hug, except in money form from a stranger on a day that isn't so great) that know when to leave you alone, and when to step up their presence. JM is one of them. JS, the super fabulous roommate from heaven, is another. I dont't know what I would have been able to do without her the past couple of days. She has been available, around, able to talk, bringing chocolate (and a Pandora angel charm for So-Ro) and just an ear to listen. So, to JS, thank you. I couldn't be more thankful for having you around not only the past couple of days, but most certainly the past couple of months. JM and I will certainly be visiting you and the super fabulous fiance. But probably when you are the super fabulous newly married couple. Don't worry. We'll give you a chance to settle first :)

So, to all of you blog-readers, thank you. To all of my friends who have texted or asked how I was doing, thank you. To my family, who is far away, but I know I'm still in your thoughts and prayers, thank you.