Unable to sleep last night because of all the overwhelming emotions going on inside me, and up at 5am for the same reason (Ry’s out cold… not fair! ;)), here I am, trying to express what it means to me that you came, that you donated, that you sponsored, that you volunteered. And I can’t. At ‘Tacos for Trey’ yesterday, people asked me how I was doing, how I thought the event was going, and I was unable to comment in any real kind of way. Being at ‘my’ event was an out of body experience. This event that I have been planning since September, that I have neglected and yelled at my kids because of, that I’m planning because I want to save my child’s life, that I have poured my heart and soul and everything I am and hope to be into… when it actually came, it was surreal.
Looking out over the hundreds of people who came to the event was unbelievable. We’ve come to have regulars. Our family and close friends who have supported us the whole way through. People who we may not know quite as well, but for some reason, know we need their support and have really big hearts or have been through something themselves so understand what we’re going through. They’ve helped us grow and watch us grow our event from our home in its first year, to the school for the past 2 years. A lot of these ‘regular’s’ I see once or twice a year or haven’t even seen them since the last T4T, and that brings me to tears because even though I don’t see them or talk to them or thank them or hug them, they still show up.
Grizz and Aimee also blew me away. Since beginning our MPS II Research Fund in 2007, T4T (and ‘Time for a Cure’ last year) has been the only fundraiser to raise money for our fund. Then yesterday, Grizz, one of Ryan’s friends from work, who I feel this connection to, even though we’re not close, went up to the mic and presented us a cheque for over $2,000. He held a poker night last weekend to raise $ for our fund.
And then Aimee came to talk to me. I’m not sure how much to say here, because I don’t want to breach anyone’s privacy, but her and her husband put on a yearly fundraiser, with proceeds going to ‘said’ charitable organization. For their upcoming event, however, they have decided to split the charitable proceeds, with 1/2 going to our research fund.
Although we have soooooooo many people supporting our event, and in no way want to take away from that, I am still in charge, and thus, the pressure is on me. If I don’t put on a good event, we won’t raise enough $ to fund research and find a cure. And until someone relieves that pressure, I don’t really realize that I’ve been under pressure. Well, Grizz and Aimee, one of my first thoughts was: you mean I don’t have to do this alone? Thank you for that. Two added fundraisers to our MPS II Research Fund in one day. Thank you. You’ve probably added a couple years to my life! 🙂
And then this year, our community came. In the past, we haven’t really had this. And when we moved to Lynn Valley last June, we came here because we were looking for community. That was incredibly heartwarming, to put it in a not so teary way. We live on a cul-de-sac, where, if it’s not freezing or pouring rain, all the kids on the street come out to play. We LOVE our street. Even dads whose kids are grown and have moved on, come out to play. Well, our neighbors came. We could have had a block party at T4T. They ALL came. And Trey’s T-ball team and soccer team came too. And that brings me to tears just thinking about it. How much better can your community get than when your entire block of friends and sports teams show up to support Trey and our family.
Because, to be honest, lots of people don’t understand or are uncomfortable or nervous about or scared of difference. And that makes me hesitate when I register Trey for activities or when we go out. Will they be receptive? Will they make negative comments behind our backs or to our faces? Will they ‘get’ us enough or be open enough to become our friends and look past our differences?
So, all my questions and wondering about how and if we will be accepted, were answered yesterday. And it was a yes. A resounding yes. This is where I want to live- a place that is willing to get to know your family, and go to bat for them, regardless of all its differences. Because we need that. And it’s not easy to find. So thank you neighbors and community, for embracing us. You have no idea how much it means (if you were sitting hears watching tears roll down my face while I type, you might have a better idea).
And now I have about 100 other stories I’d like to tell about those who came and those who touched me and those who lifted me up. But then I would be writing a thesis. And then you would need to go eat or wipe bums or sleep or do all of those wonderful things we humans do, and you would not finish reading my blog.
I said yesterday, when I went up to say my thank yous at the mic, that although we may not be able to thank each of you individually, we do want you to know how grateful we are. We hope you know. Because we do not want ANYONE who has supported us, in the hundreds of ways there are to support us, to think we are ungrateful. You are literally helping us save our son’s life. I cannot think of anything that is more meaningful to us than that. So please know that none of your support will be forgotten or taken for granted.
Got hope? You bet. Thank you for helping us hold onto it.
And for those of you who came to the site to find out how much we raised, you’ll have to wait. I have no idea. My wonderful sister, Michelle, is probably still madly counting away. When I know, you’ll know.
Thank you for coming. We love you.