New Superman

Just read that Henry Cavill is going to play the new Superman...

Oh my panties!!!!

(so had to post this on this blog...while I still can...)

Relay for Life

In December of 2010, my friend Amber lost her son Gavin to cancer. Me and all the other moms in my moms group were beside ourselves in grief not just for Amber, but for ourselves. So many of us had children around the same age as Gavin, me included. We all had to do SOMETHING to help her. Something, anything to just make it seem better for her.

The days leading up to the funeral were a blur of activity in our group. Just getting things put together and recovering from the holidays AND being seven months pregnant was keeping me busy enough. But I felt something coming up from the hidden corners of my brain...but it wasn't fully forming yet. From the time that little boy died and I heard he had AML leukemia, the memories started coming up...but slowly. I was too busy, too concerned for my friend to remember what I needed to remember.

At the funeral, forever in my brain (and I'm almost too afraid to post this) but forever in my brain is one image of my friend. After her son's tiny casket was brought in, my friends looked forward in the church to dry their eyes. I however, looked back at Amber again and saw her hug her son's casket, I saw her begin to sob, and I saw her say "My baby...". Forever that image was is in my brain.

A son left his mother behind...

It was after the funeral, PJ rose up from the recess of my brain.

AML, AML, AML....

PJ, PJ, PJ...

I met PJ in my early 20s when I was in the Lions Club. She died of AML leukemia in her late 30s, maybe early 40s. I got to meet her family at the funeral. Her half brother told some funny stories about a very loving, funny family. They had a cat that was so evil, it saw getting beat with a stuffed sock as a form of love, they had their own "Family Commandments" that included such phrases as "Thou shalt not have child until thine fish is caught.", and they spoke very honestly with one another. For example, when PJ got out of the service. Her brother had no problem saying to her "PJ, you're fat..."

Can't get more honest than that...

Another story I enjoyed was when PJ got out of the service, she took her parents out to dinner, she showed them a lamp that played music. She played it over and over again looking at her parents...they said nothing. Then her dad said to her mom when they were alone after dinner..."Cute lamp, but why would PJ get a lamp that sings 'London Bridge is falling down?'".

I first met PJ at a small middle school in Maryland. She was assigned to mentor me on the Peace Poster Contest. No one knew it as well as PJ. She had been heading it for the district for years. PJ was very gregarious and very eager to help guide me in the project. I only remember I pulled it off thanks to her. And we kept in touch between the project next year. She seemed very interested in me getting married and hearing about my plan to finish school before having kids. She really questioned me alot about when I was going to have kids.

In 2002/2003, PJ was diagnosed with AML leukemia. One of her brothers was a partial match. They tried a bone marrow transplant, but it wasn't having the effect they wanted. PJ went through chemo and constant treatment. She seemed tired when I talked to her the few times during the contest year, but she seemed to be going strong (or as best as she could). They held a bone marrow drive for PJ and I went right over to get myself on the list.

However, PJ continued to struggle. Eventually, she was hospitalized at the VA hospital in DC. She was in and out of conscientiousness as her kidneys fought to hold on. The Lions Club emailed us to let us know we can go see PJ and sit with her, but she was on a ventilator, fighting as best as she could.

I took the metro, to the bus, to the hospital to see PJ. A sister was sitting with her when I got there. She seemed relieved when I offered to stay with PJ while she go get a coffee or something. The sister let go of PJs hand and quickly left the room. Instantly, I saw PJ's hand grope for the sister's hand. I saw tears start to fall from her eyes. The incident only lasted maybe three seconds, but I could sense what she was thinking...

"Please...don't leave me alone...please...don't let me die alone."

I quickly grabbed her hand.

"It's me PJ, It's Jessica...It's ok."

PJ held my hand so tight. If I even fidgeted, she would get upset and grasp my hand tighter so I learned to be still and just stroke her hand. I sat quietly. Not knowing if I should talk to her. Not even knowing what to say. But there was nothing to say. Whether she knew it was me or not didn't matter. What matters was that she knew someone was there.

My mind was in deep thought on the way home from the VA hospital after I left. PJ may have lived a full life, but it was all still too short.

Three weeks later, she died.

The funeral was beautiful. It was held in PJ's family's backyard. There was a lake behind it and they scattered her ashes there. Everyone took turns telling stories about PJ.

I didn't really see anyone I knew from Lions. I kept to myself. There was a wrapped package in my hands. It was something from my house I found myself looking at alot after PJ died. The hubby and I were pretty broke back then, but I felt I had to bring something to this funeral, so I wrapped the item and brought it with me.

After the services, I went looking for someone to give the package to. I knew just where to go. I waited in the driveway trying to catch this person's attention. Finally, she turned around and looked at me. She was only thirteen years old...

"Cute lamp, but why would PJ get a lamp that sings 'London Bridge is falling down?'"

Because it wasn't playing London Bridge is falling down...it was playing "Mary had a Little Lamb".

PJ had broken a family commandment. She had a baby before her fish was caught.

Gavin left his mother behind...PJ left her daughter behind.

Either way you look at it cancer is cruel.

"I wanted you to have this". I said to PJ's daughter.

She took the box opened it and saw it was a House of Lloyd's Giving Angel. She looked at me.

"It's a giving angel...because your mother...she gave so much."

"Thank you." was all she could say.

I couldn't say anything, I left as fast as I could and started crying as soon as I knew no one was around and I was nearly at my car.

So when you wonder why I do some much or how I can manage to get caught up in so many projects, you'll understand why. PJ inspired me to give, give, give. She was a mom, a solider, and a very active member in her community. I knew if she could do it (without a husband mind you), then I could too. I do all I can because I know PJ can't. And I thank PJ to this day for the inspiration.