A little story about my mom...

****Warning: Not a stitch of Knitting content. You know that personal stuff I don't normally get into? Well, today, I am, and for a very good cause.****

So let me tell you about my mom. Those who know me well still get confused when I say "my mom" as to who the hell I am talking about. You see, I am a very lucky girl. I have had two mothers in my life who have loved me. My "first" mother, my birth mother, Linda, died when I was only 22 months old, and I never got to know her (the one great hole in my life) but I have always know her love and her presence. My family has been very sure to keep her alive for me as best they could. My "other" mother is Deanna, the woman who met my father when I was 10, fell in love with my brother and I, and chose to be my mother. Not my step-mother (I have never heard her utter those words) but my "mom". My everything. And lest you think she tried to drown out the memory of my mother in some self-serving ploy for love -- NO WAY. From the day she married my father, she would tend my mother's grave out of respect for the woman who gave Scott and I to her. She cried on my wedding day because my other mother, Linda, deserved to be there and she felt that loss for her. (Oh yeah -- you know that wedding dress from a few entries back? She made that.) Yes, I am very much one of the lucky ones.
A few years ago, I got one of those "phone calls you never want to get". My mom had a lump in her breast. I can't even explain the fear I felt that day. The universe had already taken one mother from me, and I'd be damned if it took her! We went to the appointments, discussed the treatments, she had her surgery, stayed the course, and THEY GOT IT. She had found the offending mass early, it was attacked aggressively, and she made it through. And yes, she is still religious about her checks and appointments, her diet, everything. She is truly a survivor, and I admire her all the more today.
The reason I am telling you all this, is not to say that our story is extraordinary, but rather all too ordinary. So many families get that fateful call, and many are not nearly as fortunate as we were. In my mother's honor, I have joined the Spun and Run team (you can read more at Cheryl's blog) to raise money in the Race for the Cure. We will be walking (or running) on her birthday, Sept. 23rd. I know we will most likely never see the end of cancer in my lifetime, but if the fear and foreboding can be taken away from a few families by a couple hours spent with friends and a few dollars of pocket change, how can we say no? Won't you help me? Click this link to donate if you can, and if not, send some good vibes into the cosmos for my mom and all the others. Thanks you all so much.