The Calendar …

My birthday is a tricky time of year. This week is emotionally charged always. Emotions are right at the top. I simultaneously love and abhor my connection to dates. It is a blessing and a curse that I constantly strive to strike balance with.

I never thought much about my birthday growing up. There were often sleepovers and cake with family, but I never thought too much about it. Not about the day, or about the blessings of family, friends, and gifts galore. Somewhere in my youth, I thought it would last foever. I was always taught gratitude, and have penned my own thank you notes from a young age. But, I meant the matter-of-fact way things just happened. My mom worked 2 jobs. She worked hard all the time. But, she made time for those things as if it was effortless. I am pretty sure I might have missed some thank yous to her along the way. She never skipped a beat.

As a teen things changed a little. Our immediate in house family grew with the additions of Ken and little sister Kathi. Older sister Lisa was at college. But, still, I never gave the day much thought.

My cousin Meghan was born in May of 1985 when I was in 6th Grade. She was the absolute apple of my eye. She was the first child in my large extended family that I was ever old enough to babysit for. We spent a good deal of time together.

Meghan’s leukemia diagnosis came when I was a freshman in High School. The next 4 years for her were a perpetual whirlwind of remission and relapse, treatments, bone marrow transplants, and smart, silly kid time. She was wise beyond her years and loved on her little sister with everything she had. She loved our Grandma’s dog, and so many people loved her.

As a growing teen, I wanted nothing more than to be tested as a possible bone marrow match for Meghan. I was turned away, even as a first cousin, and told to revisit the possibility when I was 18.

The summer before Meghan died she gave me this picture after an afternoon at the local Children’s Museum. It hangs in my house still.

I left for college in August of 1991. I called and spoke with her as often as I could in the “pre-cell phone” era. And then our stories above became forever intertwined on 11/12/1991. A call to my dorm, on the morning of my 18th birthday, brought the news that Meghan had gained her angel wings. I was never going to know if my bones held the marrow that could have saved her life. That was a bitter pill to swallow. I was broken-hearted as I headed home for formal goodbyes, but I was buoyed by the fact that no matter how many years went by, her passing, and the celebration of my birth would be remembered the same day.

I never lost the feeling of connection to this spectacular, tenacious 6 year old whose ability to converse with those well beyond her years, to express her thoughts, and to bring joy to those around her was utterly epic. I never ever forgot New Year’s Eve together, setting all her dolls out on the couch, or the MILLION times we watched Lady and the Tramp.

Meghan was still in my heart in the summer of 2003 when I asked my aunt and uncle if I could name my child after theirs. That is Meghan’s name story. She was named after a warrior whose spirit she possesses. Their struggles differ but their giant hearts and no-nonsense speech sometimes are intertwined in my memories.

Our Guardian Angel wears a gold ribbon. The power of this has also not been lost on me. Childhood cancer is it’s own kind of hell, for the parents and the children. We, as Cowden’s Syndrome patients have astronomically high cancer risks. Ones that can get into your head if you’re not careful. But we have what is not given to most. We have a warning system. And through that warning system our cancers, if they occur, can be easily managed most often. We have a gift others were not given, even in this messy road.

The story of our Meghan has had so many twists and turns these last 18 years that many blend together.

Through those years we said goodbye to many grandparents. Among them, my father, Ken’s father, my mom’s father, and my dad’s father. That group of veterans were life-shaping as well. And, with Veteran’s Day being this week too… sometimes the proud, and the grateful, and the sad get mashed together.

And November 10th, the birthday of the US Marine Corps fits right in here as well. I do not profess to fully understand, but watching my Dad reach out to every Marine he was still in contact with on 11/10/2014, a month before cancer stole him, it imprinted on my heart.

I’ve never been a big fan of fall. Or, maybe I was when I was a kid. I don’t remember. But, somehow the darkness and the dreariness and all the memories seem to feel heavy this week.

So I try to think of the joys that have intertwined with the sorrow. I think of 11/12/2014 when Meghan received “Kid of Achievement” award at a very special ceremony.

I think of my little second cousin Mackenzie, my birthday twin, just a TON of years later, brought into this world no doubt with some careful guidance by Angel Meghan and some others, whose memory Mackenzie’s mom and I both hold dear. That precious girl, born after tragedy had already touched her life, has the most magical smile. Oh, I wish I saw her more.

Angel Meghan and Cousin Kim

And last year, we took the day as a family of three and had a delightful senior photoshoot for our one and only, also on 11/12.

Photo Credit Natalie Licini @Jrevele
Photo Credit Natalie Licini @Jrevele
Photo Credit Natalie Licini @JRevele

All of these memories are somehow connected to this week. And as I think about my birthday I am grateful for another journey around the sun. The numbers don’t flip me out. I will scream loudly and proudly that I am 48. I am a mother, a wife, a sister, an aunt, a cousin, and a cancer survivor. I am grateful.

This year though, on the 30th anniversary of the passing of Angel Meghan, I pause a little extra.

Some people come into your life only for a season, yet they leave an imprint on your heart that lasts a lifetime.

As I head into my 49th year, I am grateful for those I have loved and lost, and for all I have learned. I look forward to more adventures. I hold my dearest close. I shed the nonsense. I avoid the drama as best I can.

I am far from perfect. Perhaps my biggest life lessons come from basking in that imperfection, embracing those I have loved and lost, and those I still love today. Taking the lessons learned from all and carrying them forward.

Time waits for no one. Semester one at college is almost in the books. My girl is where I was the year my Guardian Angel left this earth. 30 years since I started college. Life keeps moving.

Honor the lost. Embrace those that are near. Live in gratitude and be full of grace as our God is to us. Lead with compassion and a kind heart.

May the fall be full of blessings for you.

We remain #beatingcowdens.

My Guardian Angel wears a Gold Ribbon

My Guardian Angel is 6 in my heart. That’s the age she was the day in 1991 when she got her angel wings.

Guardian angel 1

My Guardian Angel was tenacious. She was fun and feisty. She was strong, and wise beyond her years.

My Guardian Angel battled leukemia for four and a half years. She endured chemotherapy, spinal taps, bone marrow transplants, remission and relapse.

She loved watching “Lady and the Tramp” and she loved her baby sister. She loved stuffed animals, and my grandparents dog “Bo.”

lady and the tramp

My Guardian Angel was the first kid I ever got to really babysit for. We had some fun times.

My Guardian Angel is my cousin Meghan. She changed my life when she was born in 1985- and I lost a piece of me when she passed away in 1991.

My cousin Meghan went dancing with the angels the year I started college. It was snowing. It was my 18th birthday.

My love for Meghan and the deep loss permeated the next few years of my life. The pain never ever goes away- it changes you. But I decided that I would strive to be more like her. I would take her example of grace under pressure and model my life off of it.

"Angel Meghan" - 1987
“Angel Meghan” – 1987

We were already forever intertwined and then she met Jesus on my birthday. The bond- the link- is unbreakable.

My Meghan was born a decade ago. She makes her namesake proud. She shares her strength, grace and wit. She endures medical challenges beyond measure. My Meghan has an angel on her shoulder too.

And over the last few years as the reality of Cowden’s Syndrome and it’s lifelong implications set in- Angel Meghan keeps me grounded. Whenever I want to be frustrated about the cancer risks we face- I am reminded that we are afforded a warning system. I am reminded that these sometimes grueling routine screenings have already proven life-saving for us. I can only imagine how desperately my aunt and uncle would have loved the warning system- and the prevention opportunities we have.

Meghan1990

I wonder sometimes- what my cousin would have grown to be. I wonder what the 28 year old would be doing with her life. And then I stop.

Mine is not to figure out the plan. Mine is not to understand the hows and whys. My role is to take the lessons learned, and the people who have taught them and make them part of who I am today. Mine is to keep the memory of a special young girl alive- in my heart, in my life, in my actions, and in my daughter.

So as I brace to celebrate my 40th, on a day when emotions promise to run high, I remember.

guardian angel 2

Sweet Guardian Angel Meghan, flying with your gold ribbon friends.
Forever young.
Forever loved.
Forever remembered.
May 16, 1985- November 12, 1991

One of a kind…

It probably started in the spring.  Meghan’s class had been working on a fundraiser for Alex’s Lemonade Stand. (alexslemonade.org)  The entire third grade was raising money for childhood cancer, and she took her fundraising work very seriously.

Meghan decided to make a bookmark, with a picture of my cousin Meghan – Angel Meghan as we speak of her – who died from Leukemia in 1991.  She wanted to make her connection to the fundraising personal.  As we prepared baskets of bookmarks to leave with people we knew, Meghan decided we should sell ribbons too.

So, I asked her what color?  She wasn’t sure what I meant, but I really didn’t know if there was a color ribbon for childhood cancer.  So, she took out her iPad and a quick search found us gold.  The gold ribbon was the color for childhood cancer.

 So we headed to Michael’s and bought up as much gold ribbon as we could find. We bought lots of safety pins.  We set to work cutting and pinning.

We dropped baskets off with my Uncle Chris and cousin Katie (“Angel Meghan’s” Dad and sister.)  They were eager to help, and passed baskets off to friends of theirs.  Before we knew it we were making more ribbons, and more bookmarks.

Meghan was so absolutely thrilled to raise over $500 for the project.  It was such a huge success and we were so proud.

That project raised her awareness of her ability to do for others, and helped her confidence so much.  It also made her aware, acutely aware, of cause ribbons.  She would identify the ones she knew, like the pink ribbon for breast cancer, and she would look up ones she didn’t know.  She learned about the puzzle piece for autism, and even yellow ribbons being used when soldiers are away from home.  I think that is the project that truly got her using a search engine too.  (Thanks Mrs. Azzarello!)

It seemed only natural, that months later, having watched me receive pink ribbons after my breast cancer surgery, and after countless surgeries and appointments of her own, that she would ask what “our” ribbon was.  Not sure of course exactly what she meant, I had her clarify.  “What is the ribbon for genetic diseases?”

So back to the search engines we went.  We tried a few other places. but eventually decided that this was the one.

It made sense.  The Global Genes Project had a logo that reflected her cause.  This was the ribbon for Rare Diseases – genetic disorders like our Cowden’s Syndrome.  It Made sense, their saying, “Hope – It’s in our genes” was catchy enough, and it left you thinking about the connection between genes, and jeans – the denim ribbon.

The next question should have had a simple answer – but it didn’t.  She said, “Can I have one?”

Once she clarified that she needed something, something to represent her, and all she has gone through, I understood.  She needed a symbol, something to wear that would make it easier to talk to people, that would help her feel proud, and strong, like it all mattered.

Sure, I thought.  We will get you something.

Well I looked, and I looked, and I looked.  There was nothing.  Beyond the sticker I had gotten as a thank you when I sent a contribution to The Global Genes Project, I could find NOTHING for her to own or wear, no jewelry or clothes with this “denim” ribbon.

Well sometimes the best ideas are born out of lunchtime conversation.  So, as I sat with some teacher friends the next day, I recanted Meghan’s desire to have her own cause ribbon.  One friend, the pure hearted Mom of an autistic son, who was wearing a beautiful diamond puzzle piece around her neck, “got it” on so many levels.  And, her husband happens to be a jeweler.

She said, “give me what you have, let’s see what we can do.”

Well I think we all thought it would be easier than it was.  But after weeks of searching her husband determined that there was nothing, anywhere like what we were looking for.  If we wanted it, we could have it, but they would have to make the mold.

Fortunate to have good and generous people in our lives, we paid only for the cost of the creation of the piece.  My friends husband generously donated his time, because he too “gets it.”  Their goal was only to make my girl happy.  And for that I am so grateful.

After anxious months of waiting, the piece arrived last Friday.  She treats it like a rare gem.

It is RARE, a one of a kind beauty – just like my girl.  But, never staying focused on herself for too long, she thought – wouldn’t it be nice if we could do a fundraiser, and sell these so that we could raise money for The Global Genes Project?

Well, last Friday we sent them an Email with several pictures.  It is a crazy time of year, but we are anxious to hear from them, and hoping that Meghan’s idea, can benefit many others.  It would be fitting.  That’s just the kind of kid she is.

For now though, the necklace is “one of a kind,” just like her!

A story of two Meghans…

 The cutie in this picture is my cousin Meghan.  She was born in 1985 when I was just in the 6th grade.  She was the first child I ever babysat for.  She was my buddy.

 She was diagnosed with Leukemia around her second birthday. 

Remissions and relapses, bone marrow transplants and chemotherapy followed the next 4 years, but a cure was not to be. 

She passed away in 1991 on my 18th birthday. She shaped my life in every way imaginable.  I am a better person because I knew her.  I developed perspective at an early age because I knew the pain of having loved, and lost someone so young.

 She is our guardian angel – ever-present in our lives. 

Disney 2009

My daughter Meghan was born in 2003.  I asked my aunt and uncle for permission to use the name.  They were pleased, but not surprised.  Meghan was a huge part of my life, and I wanted my daughter to know her name was carefully chosen, and she was named for one of the strongest little people I ever knew. 

My daughter  knows all about “Angel Meghan,” and how she watches over us.  She knows all about childhood cancer and its gold ribbons.  She happily worked to raise money for a school project this year, for a “great” cause.  She knows cancer took young Meghan’s life.

Gold ribbon
Gold ribbon (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

She also knows her Mom and her Grandma had cancer, and they are doing just fine.  She knows the battles can be won, but they seem to be all around us.

  What she doesn’t know, is where she fits in.  She lives a life where at a young age, cancer and its risks have become a real part of her life. 

She knows she fights every day, to get through her own life with a rare genetic disorder. 

 What I find interesting is she is seeking a symbol.  She wants something to wear to show the world what she is contending with. She was able to express it to me, and while I was amazed, it made sense.     

English: pink ribbon
English: pink ribbon (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 My husband bought me a Pandora necklace with pink ribbons after the cancer diagnosis.  I have a bracelet I wear.  They give me strength, as silly as it may sound.  A sense of focus.  A reason to stay on top of things.    

She needs something.  And it isn’t easy to find.  It’s not a blue ribbon, but a denim one representing genetic disorders.  I think I will have something made.  Anything to help her find her identity. 

She is special.  She is named for someone special.  She is unique.  She is smart.  She is funny.  She is friendly, and wise.  She is a lot like my cousin who came years before her.  She is tenacious and strong-willed.  She is finding her identity.  She is growing up.  She knows Cowden’s Syndrome will never define her, but she wants to feel empowered.  I can’t  blame her.

 Two special Meghans. 

One shaped my heart as a young girl. 

 The other daily inspires me to be a better human. 

I am truly blessed.