Gladly Waking Up Early on Saturday Mornings

During and immediately after C was sick I wondered how I would go back to “normal” life. How would I manage all the emotion as I tried to live life day-to-day? Especially in the first weeks as the shock of what had just happened wore off.

I needed something else to focus on, to direct my energy toward during the first chunk of time home. I knew C would have his therapies and withdrawal from meds for us to deal with, but I needed something in the in-between moments.

Shortly before C became sick, the hospital announced a fundraising walk for early summer. My husband suggested that we participate as a family, that it would be another good way to address the issue of giving to others to our kids (just C and M at the time). I said yes, that would be great.

During the time C was sick, we both thought about that walk. We both thought, independently, that if our son made it through, we would give ourselves fully to this walk for all the years that it happens. We would name a team after our C. We did not speak of this with each other for fear that we would somehow jinx his recovery. But as soon as C arrived home, that first night when the boys were asleep, we each said it to the other, and committed to it.

And that’s what we did. We sent out letters to our Christmas card list, and email to everyone we knew. We fundraised at work, at the kids' schools, at church. People gave. It was wonderful. It was helpful for us to have this focus in those first weeks – especially because it was giving back so immediately to the people who saved C’s life. It was something we could smile about easily in those first weeks.

That first year our team raised over $4000. We were able to direct 60% of what we raised back to the PICU and Child/Life Services. This was a unique aspect of the walk: really directing fundraising efforts. With what we and other teams raised, the PICU was able to purchase a Pedi-Porter, a specialized transport unit for very critically ill children. The second year, we raised about $3000, and it’s been about $2000 the last couple of years.

The walk is coming up in early June, and we’ll be there for the fifth time. There is a link to our fundraising page over on the right sidebar. We’ve drafted our fundraising letter.

(It was four years ago today that I drafted that first letter. It was four years ago yesterday that C was released from the hospital.)

But this is not just about what we as a family have done for the walk. It's also about what C has done for the walk.

Two years ago, at one of M’s early Saturday morning T-ball games, C said to us, his bleary parents, “All the parents here look like they could use some coffee. What if we were to sell coffee to raise money for the walk?”

We looked at C. Our eyes brightened. This meant so, so much.

It showed us that C was reaching a turning point in how he thought about his illness. It wasn’t to be hidden away or denied anymore, something he was embarrassed about (for the most part). It was just something that happened. And it meant he had taken in this lesson we had tried to teach him – that he could take a sad, difficult thing and turn it into something good – and taken it to heart. It meant he was thinking about others.

We said, yes, that’s a good idea. We sprung into action. We emailed the directors of the local baseball league and asked permission. They said sure. The next Saturday we were at the Tball field, with coffee donated by Dunkin’ Donuts, and were ready to sell. And we did it every Saturday morning of Tball season. It was a success.

With the success of coffee sales, C also suggested he see if his class would want to do a bake sale at school. Sure, I said, and I helped him write a letter to his teacher about it. His teacher, of course, said okay, and we went through asking permission of the principal, organizing the parents, and so on. Again, it was a success. C felt really good about it.

The first year of coffee sales and the school bake sale, C raised about $300. We repeated coffee sales and the bake sale last year, and raised over $500. Coffee sales start this Saturday at the 8:00 AM Tball games. On Monday, C wrote a letter to his teacher and the principal to get the bake sale going.

I’m so proud of C, of his understanding and efforts. I love my sleep, but I’ll gladly give up extra minutes of sleep on Saturday mornings for him and for this.