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Dear Family and Friends,
How ironic that as I sat down to write tonight, I re-read the update I'd written one year ago today, and saw that it was the exact day we were sent home from Milwaukee. What a difference a year makes! (I know, what a totally inadequate understatement.) We are SO damn lucky. One year ago, I wrote about how so many of us families were trying to make it to "the life raft", and somehow we had made it. And that it felt like we were next trying to "make it to shore". That day, we had lost another RMH friend, baby Kimberly. And the next month, our sweet 12-year old friend, John Reser, died as well. How we made it, we'll never know. And why they didn't, we'll never know either. And today, we think about Teddy, who, after his second BMT (the same time as Travis' BMT), is struggling while cancer once again takes over his body. He is weakening, but still fighting along with his loving family and medical team's support. And we think about Imri... who is beating his relapse after 10 years in remission. Our hearts and prayers go out to these families.
The other day, Spencer and I passed a wishing well, and as he lobbed his penny into the water, he quietly wished out loud "I wish that no one ever has to have a disease again". Then he asked if wishes come true or not. I told him that I wasn't entirely sure, but that one thing for certain is that it wouldn't hurt to try. So we decided to keep wishing.
Speaking of wishing, our countdown is on for the big Disneyland wish. Make-A-Wish wonders, Nola and Paulette, sent a Disney calendar this week to help stir up the excitement and count down the days (as if the boys needed to get excited for this!). We know almost nothing about the upcoming trip, other than when we leave and return, and that all is arranged for us. Unbelievable. A year and a half ago, I remember secretly doubting about waiting for after the BMT to grant Travis' wish. I remember fearing "What if he doesn't make it past the BMT? Why not give him this pleasure now?" And while that truly is more in line with my life's philosophy, I'm so pleased that Joe and I made the decision to wait. To hold out the wish as a celebration, which now can be with such gusto and health and hope. And, as I wrote about before, the power of the wish process was, I believe, a true part of the healing miracle for us all.
In the meantime, we're determined to not forget those who are still fighting and those that lost the fight. Just a preview of more to come... but I'm THRILLED to announce the commitment I've made to the Leukemia Society of America -- to personally, and through sponsors, raise at least $5,000 to help them reach their goal of finding a cure for leukemia by 2003. I'll be participating in the LSA's "Team In Training" program to( sit down here ) RUN in the Stockholm Marathon in June 2000. I'm so excited to find this incredible way to make a difference and at the same time, challenge myself, all for this incredible cause. Too many people are losing this fight -- and I'm sick of it. I kind of feel like it's a real "run for your life" type of challenge. While I'm not running for my own (at least not as far as I know), I'll be running for the lives of Teddy (since I feel so damn helpless) and even for our own Travis, whom we pray never relapses. It will be with great pride that I do this in honor of my heroes, Travis and Spencer. (I'll likely be sobbing all the way.) And no, I'm not a runner (I'm "up to" five 2-minute intervals in my one-hour walks�?| quite a ways to go!) But I have complete confidence in this program and my motivation to do this thing. Man, I can do this -- to help save anyone from having to go through this nightmare cancer.
More info to come.
An ending note on Travis, this sweet, unaffected child who has been through so much. His latest achievement, along with his best-buddy Spencer, was announced in full force and pride as they came bursting through the door after their latest swimming lesson. "MOM, we made it to Level 2 in swimming!" Gulp, more tears as Joe and I looked at each other. While Spencer is practically a fish in disguise, Travis really has to work at this skill. And yet, the boy who wasn't even immersed in a bathtub for over a year (due to his central line) is now in Level 2 swimming. How utterly normal. How absolutely wonderful.
Happy, healthy new year, new millennium, new life, everyone. Much love and gratitude from our family to yours,
Melanie, Joe, Travis and Spencer
P.S. Marge, our life-saving donor, we love you. Thank you, thank you, thank you for sharing your life with Travis and with us all.