Liv and I went prom dress shopping last Saturday. She had no idea what she wanted, but knew immediately what she didn’t like (zip it, please, I know). After trying on what seemed like three dozen dresses, she announced, “This one is fine, it’ll work.”
Exasperated, Liv grabbed the dress from behind the curtain and I sat down. And waited. And listened. And wondered. Nothing was happening, but I knew not to say a word. The boutique owner walked along the creaky hardwood floor to the front door, flipped the old-fashioned sign to CLOSED and then – out of that dressing room she came, beaming with the biggest, brightest smile any Mom could ever hope to see.
The store takes what they call “once loved” wedding dresses, bridesmaid dresses, and prom dresses on consignment. I wasn’t about to point out the irony in their nomenclature, but I will be dropping off two once loved dresses later this week when I am there picking up that perfect prom dress find. And for those of you whispering right now, both are Liv’s.
My point is this. Time flies; yet, life is absolutely cyclical. Proms have existed for as long as any of us can remember, and so has cancer.
In the last 50 years, survival rates for blood cancer patients have doubled, tripled and in some cases, even quadrupled as a result of research and innovation. We need to keep this trend on pace. We need to fight harder than ever. We need to never give up, because settling should never be an option.
Our lives are a series of phases. And while our cyclical experiences are each unique, each differing in terms of joys and pains, triumphs and tragedies, we are all interconnected.
At Riley getting a blood transfusion to prepare for chemo
At Riley for his first chemotherapy treatment
Induction Phase, where he had to take steroids twice a day for a month. He couldn’t walk because he was so big and Seth & Andrea had to re-teach him how to walk.
3 months before his 2nd birthday he lost all his hair
Refuse to settle.