brain cancer

May 29th.  Two years ago today we learned that Sam would certainly die from his cancer in days, weeks, or months. From September 20, 2012 until May 29th, 2013 we believed that Sam would survive for years, maybe even grow to be an adult-graduate from high school, go to college, find a career, find love. The point is, we had hope. We knew cancer created all sorts of obstacles and bumps in the road. We knew there would be symptoms to be managed, treatment that would cause short-term and long-term side effects, we knew he would be sick sometimes. We never imagined he would be dead within 13 months of diagnosis. That's the significance of May 29th. I wanted to express here what a difficult time of year this is.  School is wrapping up and proud parents are posting pictures of their children as they graduate from preschool, kindergarten, elementary school, middle school...and so on. There are awards ceremonies where your child is recognized for their achievements in math, their progr...

     Today, April 2, 2015, we will celebrate what would have been Sam�s 10th birthday�if celebrate is the correct word to use. Perhaps honor would be a better word.   Whatever words there are to describe the situation, they all fall short. There are simply no words that can adequately describe the emotions felt by a mother or father who has lost a young child. We miss Sam terribly. We miss his smile, his laugh, his charming disposition. We miss everything about him.       We will never know exactly what kind of person he would be today, what he would look like, what he would sound like, what his interests would be. We can guess, but we will never know. For us and our memories of Sam, time has frozen. Sam is Forever 8.       In the last year, we've done many things to honor Sam: We planted trees. We dedicated a bench and library corner at his school. We collected $2600 in coins from his former school mates. We hel...

One year. The passage of time since Sam died means nothing and everything to me at once.  For an instant I can capture the memory of Sam's last moments as though they happened yesterday, yet I feel like I've been living without him for a very long time.   That Sam is gone at all still leaves me stunned, yet there are times when I can scarcely believe he was ever here at all.  On the one hand I am devastated and immobilized, on the other even I am dumbfounded at my ability to continue to live this life.  Recently I was confronted with the idea of my own mortality. Like many women, I was called in for a second look after my annual mammogram. This was a first for me, and women don't talk about this frequent request for additional images so I assumed of course that I had breast cancer. I assumed I, like Sam, would die of my cancer.  Now all this drama happened over the course of only 3 days but at some point while I was imagining my demise, weeping more than usual, ...

     John and I would like to thank everyone who supported the Lemonade and Love for Sam Luau last weekend�all of you who helped organize, set-up,  run a stand, or clean-up; or who donated time, money, and energy to this great event�Thank You!!!  I don�t know how many people ended up coming, but it was a lot.  We raised a lot of money (still being counted) and a lot of awareness for the childhood cancer cause�.and we couldn�t be more proud of everyone who participated and contributed and helped make this happen.  Many of you came from near and far to be a part of it and we want you to know that we appreciate each and every one of you and all of your efforts!      Speaking of raising awareness and money for childhood cancer, for the last few months John and I have been working on setting up our own non-profit charitable foundation.  We are proud to now be able to announce that the Samuel Jeffers Childhood Cancer Foundation is a real...

I'm not good with words, and even if I was I can't identify what I'm feeling now-except for the gratitude. Gratitude that my husband and teenage children would come all this way with me and be in this awkward position of sharing our tragedy with the world when the three of them are such private people. I think they thought this this going bald fundraiser was all mine, but really it's ours. It's taken the combined effort of our little family, our extended family, our friends, our friends' friends, and strangers.  I am grateful that John and Ben and Abby came along with me to Boston. They've met a flood of people from various eras and experiences in my life. Those people have taken pictures of Ben and Abby and John, they've hugged and shook hands, and probably looked at them with sad eyes, and I know it's been overwhelming and uncomfortable.   And let's talk about those people who came to support us yesterday (or the folks who couldn't come but...

You've probably noticed that I don't write much anymore. It's not that I don't have plenty to say. It's just that most of what I need to write about is not mine to write about. The teens have big struggles and that's what's hurting the most right now. But they are teens, so I won't share their heartache with you. That's their job, if they choose to do it. Sure I have plenty of fall-out of my own, but much of that is already so well spoken about some of the other bereaved moms I know ( Phyllis Sommer and Libby Kranz to name a couple).  And then there's the mundane fall-out that most, if not all, cancer families suffer-Money. The result of my extended leave of absence from teaching is that the district has elected to release me. I was told I could reapply for my job. I certainly could have applied for employment with other districts. I chose not to. I don't have the energy to sell myself to anyone at the moment. I don't know if I ever wil...

I don't have a Mother's Day post, but John does. I always thought that Mother's Day, like Valentine's Day and Father's Day, is not a real holiday. I call them Hallmark Holidays. You know, holidays made up by companies that make money off of holidays. Don't get me wrong, I've always enjoyed the handmade cards and gifts that came from my children. I treasured their joy, their love. I no longer have a little one in elementary school making gifts and cards. Childhood is suddenly over. I get to think about that every day. I get to miss him every day. I get to question whether I did enough every day. John's thoughts- Mother�s Day.  It is so sad going through a Mother's Day without Sam.  I can honestly say that this is the first "going forward" milestone that has hit me.  I hadn't been feeling too bad about some of the others, even Sam's own birthday, but for some reason him not being here for Mother's Day is getting to me. I think one...