Putting a name on it

(Me with Mom #1 Chris and Mom #2 Mariyln)

Growing up with a large extended family that included a very close church family I knew several people who went through battles with cancer. But it never impacted my immediate family or my daily life. I never heard about chemo and radiation burns and the secondary diseases caused by treatments. I never knew the fear that comes from hearing that a loved one has been diagnosed. And then I got the phone call.

I remember the call well, I was sitting in the parking lot of the mall in Yuma, Arizona about four years ago. I'd just bought a ridiculously expensive nightgown in preparation for a spring break trip to Palm Springs. I was giddy with the thought of a few days away from seventh graders laying by a pool, getting a massage, sleeping in the queen size bed the website for the inn we were going to promoted. (Side note: I still have the nightgown and I count it as one of my best purchases ever!)

My parents called and asked if Ang and I could get on the phone together, never a good sign. So we did, in the car, with our packages staring at us from the backseat. And they told us that my grandfather had been diagnosed with cancer. And it began.

Then this past summer we got another phone call. Another request to get us both on the phone. Through tears my mom told us that her best friend for her entire life, our second mother, had been diagnosed with colon cancer. The world started to crumble.

Four years later my grandfather still battles cancer on a daily basis. He's tried chemo, experimental drugs, his teeth have all broken because of the drugs, he's developed infections, he complains in his quiet manner that he doesn't have much to live for anymore, that he can't do anything. His cancer is not curable but not necessarily fatal either. For that we are thankful. Not that he's still sick but that we had another Christmas with him this year. I am thankful each time I get another hug from him or hear his voice on the phone.

Marilyn, my mom's best friend, is dealing with a more aggressive form of cancer. She has chemo almost weekly though you wouldn't know it from the brave face she puts out to the world. At Christmas we had a wonderful family dinner and I was so thankful to be able to create more memories with her. Because my life is filled with memories of Marilyn, she is a part of the fabric that has created my life. I cannot imagine life without her. I cannot imagine her not being part of the world, my world.

I cannot express in words how much I hate cancer. How much I don't understand why some people get it and others don't. I've heard we all have cancer cells in our body but I wasn't all that great of a science student in school. However, I do know that it takes money to research cures. And that's something I can help with. I can help by raising ten, fifteen, maybe even a hundred dollars to help keep these two people a part of my life, my memories, my fabric for a little longer.

Imagine your world without two of the most important people in your life. Imagine those same two people suffering on a daily basis. Struggling to keep water down. Sitting for days in the dentist chair because the cure is sometimes worse than the disease. Imagine losing people you don't have to lose just because there's not enough money to figure out how to save them.

I know money's tight right now, trust me, I know. But I also know that the $30 fee it took to sign up for the 5K Walk for Cancer wasn't much more than it costs for dinner and a movie and I decided that small concession was the best thing I could do this week. So what can you do?

Can you donate $5? That's all I'm asking for, a small donation. I know I've asked in the past. I'll probably ask again. But then again, cancer's not going anywhere either. Not unless we do something about it.

Visit my page and consider donating: (click here)

I thank you in honor of the two names I've put on my cancer fight: Jim and Marilyn. I thank you in honor of the millions of women and men fighting cancer on a daily basis and their families who fight right alongside them. I thank you because it's all I can do. That and raise a little money and walk a few miles. It doesn't seem like much but it might be the push this fight needs...