Thurs. Jan. 24th
Often, I write about B+ Foundation activities. Sometimes it’s a dance marathon, a 5k, a golf outing, ice hockey game, car race, or some other hopefully worthwhile activity that we or other people are putting on to support our mission to fight childhood cancers. Frequently, I write asking for your support. And, we appreciate the support so much.
But, that’s the business of The B+ Foundation that I try to drown myself in.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the cruel reasons why we have to be in this fight. It’s for real kids…real and innocent children who lose their ‘normal’ childhood – some temporarily and some permanently. And, their siblings do as well. And their Moms and Dads are forever changed.
The official name of our Foundation is, after all, The ANDREW MCDONOUGH B+ Foundation. This may not make sense to you, but sometimes, I just HATE that my son’s name is before the “B+”. My son shouldn’t be a 14 year old innocent child who died. I love that my son’s memory lives on, but WHY do I have to be talking about my son’s memory? He should be alive! He should be a Junior in college dealing with all the normal things a 20 year old deals with. He should be hanging out with Ali. He should be taking the dogs for a walk with his Mom. I would love to be working out at the Y with him.
I would never tell you about all of the bad things that Andrew went through during those 167 days of hell. He was SO brave and fought so hard. I could never explain what it has done to my family. Our family will never be the same. As I’ve said before, we truly had the perfect family…perfect, at least, in my eyes and at the end of the day, isn’t that all that matters. And, it was all ripped away from us in such a brutal fashion. All because of some inexplicable mutation of white cells in Andrew’s body. Six years ago Sunday, Andrew played 4 soccer games and helped his team win a PA state championship. Six years ago Tuesday, he was diagnosed with leukemia, went into cardiac arrest, and we were told that he would not live through the night. That was the first of four times that we were told that our boy would die. Can you imagine hearing those words?
There are no words to describe how much I miss Andrew and how much I miss my old life. I know Chris and Ali do too. Things will never be the same. You can’t imagine how often I think about this. You don’t want to know about the nightmares. But, I know I can’t bring Andrew back.
Yes, I try to “Live Like Andrew” because I know that is what he would want. It sounds trite, but I’m positive Andrew would want us to smile and have fun. But, that’s the difference between doing what your brain tells you versus doing what your heart feels. It’s a battle every day. I had a friend tell me recently that I shouldn’t feel “victimized”. That’s a battle every day as well.
And, yes, I am positive that Andrew is in Heaven. Perhaps Andrew accomplished everything he was put here to do. I don’t know why things happen the way they do. Some of us take longer to make our mark. It didn’t take Andrew long. But, selfishly, I’d like to have him back here with me. But, I know that he’s in Heaven and I guess you shouldn’t complain about that, I suppose.
I don’t know why I’m writing this right now. I’m not looking for pity. I’m really not. Sadly, we’re not the only ones who have planned their child’s funeral. I do want people to realize that this isn’t a business of raising awareness and money for some nameless, faceless kids. These kids are your kids, your neighbors. As much as I appreciate it when people say that they’re supporting The B+ Foundation for me, Chris, and Ali, I kind of smile because I feel like saying ‘thanks, but don’t do it for us. We’re not getting anything out of this. This isn’t about building monuments to Andrew. No matter how successful we are, it will NOT bring back Andrew John McDonough. Yes, please support The Andrew McDonough B+ Foundation – or any other childhood cancer organization. But don’t do it for us, do it for you, your kids, your relatives, your grandchildren. With all due respect, you’re naive if you think this can’t happen to you. Trust me. I was.
Shortly after Andrew went to Heaven, someone asked us if we would still have had Andrew if we somehow knew, before he was born, that he would die of cancer at 14. Without hesitation, we say ‘absolutely’. As sad as this is, we are blessed. I would marry Chris again, we’d have Ali again, and we’d have Andrew again.
Hug your kids and loved ones today. Appreciate what you have. And, please pray for the kids and families for whom the world of childhood cancer has become a reality. Please decide today that childhood cancer HAS to stop!
Ali & Andrew’s Dad
www.caringbridge.org/visit/andrewmcdonough