Just Doing What We Can

So, this feels like kind of an awkward post to write. I'm coming to you with my grubby little paw out, asking for money in the worst economic time of our generation. Or most other generations for that matter.

But I feel like it's for a good cause so I'm just going to charge ahead like a bull in a china shop. Which is about the only way I operate. I'm a Sagitarius after all.

Anyway, many of you know that two years ago we became involved with an organization called St. Baldrick's. From the first time we heard about it, we loved the concept: People raise money for pediatric cancer research by asking for donations and then shaving their heads in solidarity with kids who have cancer.

If you've never attended an event, try to track one down in your area. It's just cool to see all of these people--men, women AND children--shaving their heads for a good cause. And then when you see them all over town for the next few weeks, you definitely know where they got their hair cut.

The event in our town is scheduled for Saturday, March 14, noon - 4pm, at the Eagle Fire Station. If you're local, come and join us.


St. Baldrick's 2008

Eamonn and Declan are both planning on raising money and shaving again this year. Again, I feel awkward asking this time around. The economy is awful, jobs are tenuous, budgets are strained. Believe me, we're feeling it, too. Eamonn and I were talking about how unfortunate it is that there isn't a Cancer Recession as well. I'm annoyed that it doesn't work that way. It seems like I'm following and communicating with more cancer families than ever before. And I hate it. Hate. It.

I don't know how many of you are cycling enthusiasts, but I spend an inordinate (and not unenjoyable) amount of time watching cycling races. I, for one, don't care why Lance Armstrong returned to cycling. Some people say he can't stand being out of the limelight. All I care about is that once again he's bringing cancer research INTO the limelight with him. On the first day of the Tour of California, Lance gave an interview and talked about two numbers on his bike: The first number, 1,274, represents the number of days since Lance last raced professionally. The second number, 27.5 represents how many people, in MILLIONS, who have died worldwide in those 1,274 days. That's like the entire population of the state of California dying in a 3 1/2 year timespan. Tears came immediately to my eyes while he was talking. Of course, we know I'm a silly sap who cries when her husband steals her People magazine, but those numbers scared me. That's a lot of frickin' people, people.

So, we're just going to keep doing what we can for as long as we can.

If you'd like to donate this year, you can link to Declan's page or Eamonn's page to donate now. If it's just not in the budget this year, we totally understand. We'll just write you down for twice as much next year. Kidding. Totally kidding. But you will be haunted by leprechauns if you don't donate. Not kidding. They're real and scary.

One memory of Finn's cancer journey I'll never forget is when Declan asked me, "Who will be our baby if Finn dies?" Declan was four and had already been through and seen enough to ask a question like that. It still tears at my heart. I wish I could make it so another parent never had to hear words like that again. Alas, my magical powers only extend as far as kissing a skinned knee, holding a fevered little body, or consoling over a lost hockey game.

Will cancer be cured in my lifetime? Declan and Finn's lifetime? My grandchildren's lifetime? I don't know. But I'm sure as heck going to try.