Last evening I attended the 6th annual “Hope in The Harbor” Fundraising Gala in Baltimore Founded by my Friend Judi Imel.  My daughter, Marit and I spoke at the inaugural gala and I have attended every one since then. Judi’s daughter was also treated at St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital and was just 9 months ahead of us in starting her treatment.  I met Judi during my first week at St. Jude.   She had returned to the hospital with her daughter for her daughter’s first 3-month post treatment visit.  I remember seeing Judi tenderly assisting her teenage daughter, Keeley, in the MRI room.  Later that day, our newly assigned social worker suggested that I meet Judi after believing we had things in common.  Primarily, we are both nurses.  I had no idea the day we met, the importance she would play in my life and the friendship that would form.  Isn’t that exactly how friendships are sometimes formed though?   By chance and by fate.  Last night during some meaningful and humorous post party downloading, we decided that in fact what Judi was for me was an informal “mentor” in cancer land. God knows I needed and appreciated having one.  Certainly, none could have been better than her.  She was able to “give it to me straight”.  We understood the medical lingo and the clinical pieces of it but most of all, I believe we bonded over our similar attitudes, occasional irreverences and coping strategies.  There was no sparing of the actual “F” words in relation to much of it or in our expression of the injustice of it all.

Judi and me last night at the Gala:

Keeley was seemingly doing very well post treatment but in the Fall of 2010, the cancer had returned and thus began the journey towards her new eternal life.  Beautiful, sweet, and I am told wickedly humorous Keeley succumbed to this horrendous disease and passed away April 1st, 2012. Life can be so incredibly UNFAIR!  I attended her viewing and funeral returning a mere few weeks later for the 3rd annual “Hope in the Harbor” Gala that year.

Judi and her daughter Maura speaking at last evening’s Gala:

My 92 year old Uncle passed away on Monday.  I’ve been considering his life and his passage.  Several years ago at his grandson’s wedding, he reminisced with me about how he remembered looking out at sea aboard ship when he was in the navy while wondering if he’d survive the war experience and if so,  how his life might all work out.  While reminiscing, he seemed perfectly pleased with how his life had subsequently unfolded.  He was a grandfather several times over.   Since then, he became a great grandfather a few times over as well.  He lived 12 years longer than his own father had.  He was a well respected pharmacist, community member and a kind family man.  He took my mother to the hospital, timed her contractions and was at the hospital during my birth.  (My Dad was out of town on a business trip and I was born 3 weeks early).  He was a steadfast prayer warrior throughout my daughter’s cancer journey too.

So, of course, I ask myself the existential questions frequently.  Why do some people get to experience life on earth for 92 years and others get 3, 7, 18, 30?  What does it all mean?  I don’t think you can help asking those questions when you’re initiated into the exclusive club you wish you didn’t qualify for. (Parents of children diagnosed with cancer).  The questions just keep returning.  I know there are no answers and realize it’s pointless to ruminate on it.  We can all do things to maintain our health with the hope that it will give us some kind of assurance or illusion that we have control over our destiny,  But, as some of us have experienced already, much of this may be completely out of our control and life on earth can be over in a blink of an eye.

I had an epiphany a few years ago while waiting in the St. Jude MRI room for yet another scan.  The one thing we can control is how well we love, care, serve, and express ourselves while we exist.  I am particularly grateful for my family and friends who loved and cared about me through my St. Jude cancer journey.  I know amongst my family of origin, we have become more deliberate about expressing our love for each other.  I don’t think we were very comfortable saying the words in the past but as time has marched on and tragedies have ensued, we’ve all come to realize that life is short and precious.   I feel better trying to give back as I can to those who helped me and by continuing to do what I can to help St. Jude with the hope of curing childhood cancer. It is truly UNFAIR that this disease has claimed as many lives as it has.  One life affected by childhood cancer is one too many!

I thank any and all of you who have been St. Jude supporters and prayer warriors!  I think we all need people in our lives to make our journeys easier and our burdens lighter.