As I sit here waiting for the biopsy results on a particularly scary mole removed from my arm, I write to ask for your help. Not for me, but for millions of people in the fight of their lives. It’s time to step up and make a difference.
A few of you may know about a double tragedy I suffered during my childhood, but most do not. When I was eight years old, my mother was diagnosed with an advanced stage of ovarian cancer. A short time later, my father was killed in a freak automobile accident, leaving my mother alone to care for two young children and battle a terrifying disease, with no hope for a cure.
My mother never let anything destroy her remarkable spirit. When I was only 4, she and my father left a comfortable existence in Seattle and drove to Maine with nothing but a Volkswagen full of their personal belongings. They were looking for something different in their lives. My father set up shop as a small-town lawyer while my mother, a former teacher, learned to build passive solar houses. Then she built our home, from the ground up, with her own two hands.
I tell you this to illustrate her incredible strength and determination. She lived another five years after my father’s death, four years longer than her doctors predicted, astonishing everyone. But even she could not beat this disease forever, and when I was thirteen, she passed away peacefully with her family at her side.
I cannot express how devastating this was to me. It has taken me many years to begin to face those days from an adult’s perspective. The simple fact is, an experience like this damages a child in ways that are permanent and life-changing.
My mother loved the arts, and always encouraged me to draw and write as much as possible. Her enthusiasm and support made me want to become a writer, which brings me to where I stand today. If you’re reading this you probably know that Bloodstone, my first published novel, was released this week in paperback by Leisure Books. It is (I hope) a fun, scary read full of ghosts and demons and possession and old, long-buried family secrets. But there are also many references to cancer in the novel. I didn’t do this intentionally, but it crept in from my subconscious all the same. I guess it was also an exorcism of sorts for me.
Millions of families have been devastated by cancer. Many children are left alone to cope with overwhelming feelings of anger, sadness and guilt when their parents pass away, as I was. Many children are, themselves, suffering from the disease.
I want to make a difference in these children’s lives. With this in mind, I have decided to donate the profits I earn from Bloodstone—every penny—to the American Cancer Society, in my mother Pamela Kenyon’s name.
But that’s nowhere near enough. Which brings me to you. I’m asking you to do something, right now, today, to join me in this fight. Go to the American Cancer Society online at www.cancer.org, or use this direct link:
www.cancer.org/docroot/DON/DON_1_Donate_Online_Now.asp?from=hpglobal
and make an online donation to ACS. Small or large, it doesn’t matter. Just don’t wait: go RIGHT NOW. It will only take a moment, but if we work together, a few minutes and a few dollars will make all the difference in the world to so many people.
Maybe one of your own loved ones. Maybe even you.
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Since I wrote the first part of this story, I received the results of my biopsy. They were negative. I was lucky, but I can’t help thinking of many others right now who are receiving far more frightening results. It’s easy to forget that none of us are alone in this world, and that we are all part of something much larger than ourselves. We need to work together to fight such a powerful enemy. Please share this with family and friends. Encourage them to give. By working together, we can finally wipe cancer off the map forever.
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