Thursday, September 6, 2012

Childhood Cancer Awareness

Three years ago in September my second daughter was diagnosed with cancer.

At 10 weeks old.

I remember thinking that her pediatrician was surely kidding. I remember being thrust into a world that I had never even acknowledged existing. I remember pure fear.

At the time I had no idea that September was recognized as Childhood Cancer Awareness month. I surely didn't know that my daughter was one of the average 46 children diagnosed each day and I sure as hell would never have comprehended that she would someday be one of the average 7 children who die each day due to various cancers.


Now I know and its worse than you will ever allow yourself to imagine.

I could go on and on about how very much I miss my daughter. How unfair it is. How God became real in my tears. How painful it is to hold your daughter as she breathes her last breathe of air. How difficult it is to even get out of bed six mornings out of seven...

But I won't.

Because that gets us nowhere.

What I will do is to shamelessly ask you to give money. Give it to organizations that focus solely on pediatric cancers; research and treatments both. (May I suggest I'll ask you to learn about Donna, whose mother Mary Tyler Mom is blogging about the 31 months of Donnas treatment over at the Huffington Press throughout September. I'll ask you to not close your eyes to lives being lost. Mothers are no longer able to kiss and tuck little two year olds in bed, Daddies are no longer dancing with their second borns to bluegrass music and sisters are wondering just how to draw their family minus the little sister who should stand next to themselves.

This is reality. It's not a sad movie or only someone else's struggle. It's 46 children a day who will loose their hair while their families cope. It's seven children who will be damn strong but will not be able to overcome this beast.

My daughter is gone. I miss her dearly. And I know that she is only one of many beloved children who are gone too soon. When I think of the parents who will someday have to walk in my footsteps, I grow weak. It's a burden and fear and it will always haunt me.



Do it for my sweetest Piper, for Paxton, for Tyler, for Abby, for Mikiya, for Pyper, for Bo, for Ricky, for Merrill, for Reagan and for the others who fight no more.


  1. So interesting to me that you posted this today. I was actually thinking about posting on this topic myself. A few weeks back I purchased a shirt via UGA/CHOA to help raise funds for research at the Aflac Center. One of the UGA football coaches has a daughter that has ALL and the shirt was designed in her honor. Have you seen it or heard about it? While driving down the road this morning, while wearing my shirt, I was thinking that in reality I wear the shirt for not only Kasyn but Piper and my cousin who was diagnosed with ALL in '96. Childhood cancer is horrific. Here's the link for the information on the shirts if you haven't seen it yet.

    You all are never far from my thoughts. Even now you are still prayed for daily. Much love from Rome. ~Katie

    1. It's Coach O's daughter (I think Olivadati...sounding it out, not sure of the spelling). I had reached out to him through Orsen Charles last year (I just happened to sit next to him in a landscape/architecture design class), but never heard back from him. I am going to look up the shirts and will be sure to grab one.


  2. It is mind boggling how many are hit with this horrible disease. Thank you for reminding us that the battle goes on...