Too Much To Dream ~ The Electric Prunes

"I had too much to dream last night ~ too much to dream. I'm not ready to face the light ~ I had too much to dream last night."

"I've always thought that 'The Electric Prunes' is a strange name for a band, or just about anything else, for that matter. Still, they did have this wonderful song way back in the day, that perfectly describes my feelings when I woke up this morning."

That's how I started this post over two months ago, back on December 6 ~ the day after I had a really remarkable dream. I've been staring at it almost daily since that time, but I just couldn't seem to make myself move beyond those first two sentences. The thing is, this is about a dream that I had that was both upsetting and uplifting. In the end, to me at least, uplifting best describes it, but I wondered how and if I could write about it in such a way as to convey that feeling. There are those who will say that this dream was just the result of an over-active imagination of a sad, pathetic and distraught woman clinging to the memory of her amazing children so tragically lost to her in this life. There are those who will say, "Well, she's finally gone over the edge." But, there are those who will understand and believe that this experience was real in every way. You see, I'm pretty sure that we have an everlasting connection to our loved ones both in this life and beyond. I've had many experiences since the loss of my children that more than confirm that belief for me. This was just one of those ... So, here goes ~

Have you ever had a dream that was so real, so vivid, so overwhelming, that you really weren't ready to face the light the next morning ... a dream in which you could talk, taste, feel everything and everyone around you ... a dream that filled you with every emotion you can imagine ~ fear, joy, sadness, love, hate. That was the dream I had several months ago, and it is still as real to me this moment as it was when I was wrapped in it. This is what happened in my dream.

I was in my car on a beautiful, sunny summer day in Atlanta. I was driving down Mt. Vernon road heading home from my office. It was early afternoon. Suddenly, I saw Jeffrey crawling along the side of the road. I stopped the car and seemed to fly out of it to his side. He had all of his beautiful red hair, and he looked healthy, except that he had been viciously attacked by someone or something, and he was trying desperately to get home. I was terrified and horrified, but he just got into the car and smiled. He was missing both feet. His left arm was gone from his elbow down. Sick with fear, I looked at him and said, "Oh Jeffrey, what happened." With those amazing aquamarine eyes and a smile on his face, he said, "I was attacked, Mom, but don't worry. I'm okay." We drove a while, and it seemed as though we were on a country road somewhere. The colors were so bright ... the blue of the sky that matched Jeffrey's blue polo shirt, the green of the grass and the trees, the bright yellow sun shining on the blacktop of the road. I remember thinking that this was an odd route to get to the hospital and that I had to hurry to get him there, yet somehow I was confident that I was going the right way. Sure enough, in a matter of seconds, we found ourselves in the Emergency Room at Emory Hospital. Jeffrey was on a table and several Doctors were treating him ~ cleaning him up and stitching his wounds. One of the Doctors looked at me and said, "Okay, Mrs. Horne. We've done all that we can do for him. You can take him home now." I said, "But, Doctor, he has no feet, and he has no arm" to which the Doctor replied, "I know, and I'm sorry, but there's nothing else we can do."

Jeffrey, hopped down off the table and, though he had no feet, walked with me to the car. He was walking slightly in front of me, so it was easy to see that he had on flip-flops. He had no feet, but he had on his favorite flip-flops. He turned to me and said, "Hurry up, Mom. We have to meet my friends at the California Pizza Kitchen." He was walking quickly across the bridge to the hospital parking lot, and I was thinking "how can he walk? He has no feet, and he has on flip-flops." It just didn't seem to bother him at all.

When we arrived at the California Pizza Kitchen, it was crowded with his friends. I knew some of them, but others, I didn't. I sat down with a group of boys from Jeff's and Brian's high school. One of them asked, "Mrs. Horne, where's Brian?" Before I could answer, Jeff said, "Oh you know how Brian is ~ he's everywhere!" Jeffrey was talking and laughing and going from table to table to visit with his friends. Then he came over to the table where I was sitting and took a seat. His friends were kidding him about the Jeff  Gordon NASCAR cap he was wearing. The pizza came and everyone was eating, but I felt overwhelmed with a great sadness. It was a sadness mixed with fear and sympathy/empathy for my child. I wondered how he felt being with his friends when he had no feet and only one arm. I wondered how he was feeling inside, but he just kept talking and enjoying himself. I found myself looking down at the floor. I remember thinking how hard it was to look at Jeffrey, and I wondered, again, if his friends felt that way. Suddenly, Jeffrey turned to me and said, "It's okay, Mom. You don't have to be afraid to look at me. I'm alright, and I'm having the time of my life!!!" I remember looking up to see him standing beside my chair. His feet and his arm were no longer gone. His full head of gorgeous red hair (pre-buzz) seemed to glow. He was tall and strong and whole and well and smiling brilliantly at me.

I woke up with a start to a voice saying "It's time to wake up now." I had fallen asleep in my recliner in the den in front of the television. The sun was just coming up. I looked around the darkened room to see who was telling me to wake up. There was no one there. Mr. Horne was snoring away in the master bedroom, and Camilla (Jeff's English Bulldog) and Sally (Brian's little Westie) were both sound asleep. Still, I know that I heard that voice, distinctly and clearly. It was not a part of the dream. You see, it, like the dream, was real. All morning, I thought about "the dream" and how truly amazing it was in every way. I thought about how wonderful it was to share that time with Jeffrey even though, in my "dream", he was terribly injured. And I thought about how, when he was so ill with Leukemia, he behaved much like he did in my "dream". In spite of the horror, he managed to have "the time of his life" those last few months.

Here's the thing ... in this life, Jeffrey was, indeed, attacked by a monster called Leukemia, and it robbed him of his health and his very life. But he never let it get him down. He never gave up, and he continued to live life to the fullest until the day he died. His strength, courage, spirit, good humor and faith inspire me to continue to wage war on this monster called Leukemia. Leukemia was the enemy of both Jeffrey and Brian. Now it is mine, and like Jeffrey, I will never give up in the fight ~ not until I draw my last breath. Both of our boys handed me a torch, and I want to use it to light yours. To make Leukemia YOUR enemy, too.

Will you join me in the fight for a cure for Leukemia? There are nearly 1 million living with Leukemia and blood cancers today, and every four minutes of every day there's a new diagnosis. There are no known causes for Leukemia or known ways to prevent it. That's why research is so critical. Jeffrey's Voice funds research that will lead to a cure, and that is our only mission. Together, we can win this fight. Together, we can find a cure. Together, we can reach the day when no more are lost to this wretched disease, the day when all remissions are permanent, and the day when finally there is a cure for all. To learn more about the mission of Jeffrey's Voice, please visit http://jeffreysvoice.org/ ~

I'm Not Scared ... Unknown Artist

"There’s something flying through the air out there.

On a broomstick gliding through the air out there.

But I’m not scared 'cause I’m safe inside,

I’m not scared, but I think I’ll hide."

There was little "ditty" (that's a song) that our oldest son, Allyn, learned for Halloween back when he was in First Grade. When "the boys" - Jeff and Brian - came along, Allyn taught it to them before they even started school. We sang it for years every Halloween, but only during daylight hours! After dark, it would cause them, especially the little ones, undue fear.  That fear was furthered by the notion that all three of them believed I turned into a witch every night at midnight. Now, I don't know why that is ... perhaps it's genetic. You see, for years as a child, I believed my own dear, sweet Mother turned into a witch every night, too. It certainly couldn't have been that I encouraged that idea. No, there's not a chance of that!

It became a matter of great interest to the boys. They would ask me endless questions ~ "Where do you keep your broomstick, Mommy?" "Where's your cauldron?" "Can you cast spells?" "Do you have a black cat?" "Where is he?" "Do you have witch friends?" It was all an intriguing little game we played, especially at Halloween! They weren't afraid ~ in fact, they were never afraid of much of anything. They were just curious, and, of course, in their hearts they knew it was all a game. They loved Halloween and would plan their costumes for weeks. Halloween night, out the door we would go ... me in my witch paraphernalia and they in whatever costume they had decided upon. We were blessed, as my Mom was a wonderful seamstress and made their bunny, pumpkin, bear, Ninja Turtle, and many more costumes for years, until they reached the years that they wanted to be nasty, monstrous looking things with claws and fangs! The rule in our house was that when they reached 13, they could no longer go out "treating", as Allyn always called it, because there were no tricks. At that point, they would help me decorate, dress up in their scary costumes, and take turns handing out candy to the "treaters", as Allyn called them, because there were no "tricksters"!

But, as the boys grew older and entered the teen years, I think their belief that I was a witch intensified ~ especially when they couldn't have their way. They would ask, I would say "NO", and they would mutter under their breaths, "Mom's a witch!" I would say, "I heard that." Of course, then they would turn those years of fun and games right back on me ~ "Well, Mom, you said so!" And, well, I guess I did, and I suppose they could have called me worse, but they wouldn't have. Like I said, they had no fear ~ except, perhaps, of the wrath and withering looks from their Mother when they did something really bad. Being restricted from certain activities was not something they looked forward to, so they were generally pretty well-behaved ~ at least at home. Once away from home, well, that's another song for another day!

I'm not scared anymore, either. You see, when you face the worst a parent can imagine ~ the loss of two beautiful and amazing young sons within weeks of each other ~ things that you once feared, no longer have much meaning. There is one thing that I do fear, though, and that is not defeating Leukemia. I fear one more person suffering the devastating impact of this wretched disease. And, although I know that today, like everyday, there will be 118 new diagnoses of Leukemia, and that 60 will be lost, I will fight for a cure until I draw my last breath. You see, Leukemia was the enemy of Jeff and Brian ~ now it is mine. I hope to make it yours. There are no known causes for Leukemia or known ways to prevent it. That is why research into the causes and cures is so very, very critical. Visit Jeffrey's Voice and learn more about our mission to find a cure. Help us by donating ~ there is no amount too small. Every penny, every dime, every dollar donated to Jeffrey's Voice brings us closer to the day when no more are lost to Leukemia, when all remissions are permanent, and when finally there is a cure for all.

Happy Halloween!

My Friend, The Doctor & Other Things ...

There was a song, back in the day, by the Cowsills ~ The Rain, The Park & Other Things. "Flowers in her hair, flowers everywhere ..." Well, I have a song for everything and this is what I have to say ~ just changing the words a bit!

I have a beautiful and amazing friend. Her name is Patti Hall. She and I met when we were very young ~ I was pregnant with our oldest son, Allyn, and she with her oldest son, Jimmy. She worked in an Executive Suites as a receptionist. That's where I had my little 10'x10' office. We shared our stories, and we shared our fears. Just 3 months before Patti gave birth, I delivered a beautiful, healthy baby boy. Patti's delivery was not as successful, and there were some complications with the baby, Jimmy, something her family still struggles with. Shortly after our babies were born, we added a wonderful client that helped my business grow, so I spoke with Patti about coming to work for me. Without hesitation, she said "YES"! We were still in the Executive Suites in my same little office sitting across a desk from each other, trying to talk on the phone and not disturb each other, and eating boiled eggs & Cheetos for lunch. Because we both had babies, we traded days coming in to the office, but we always scheduled two or three days that we were there together. Then, one day when it was Patti's turn to "man" the office, we received a call from a potential client that changed everything! Patti called me at home and said, "Nancy, you have about an hour to get dressed, head downtown and make a presentation to the Southern Cable Television Association." Somehow I managed and somehow we got the account! We moved to our "own" office shortly thereafter ~ we no longer needed the Executive Suites, and we hired a receptionist and a bookkeeper! I remember how excited Patti was about having her own office with, of all things, a window!! We moved a couple of times after that, as the business continued to grow, and then Patti took a few years of sabbatical after the birth of her second and amazing son, Jeffrey.

When she called to ask if she could come back, my heart sang. By that time, my Jeffrey and Brian had joined the Horne family. I remember her walking in the door that day for what she thought was an "interview". She said, "Nancy, you're so thin." I had on a black dress, she a red suit. I rehired her on the spot, and she came to work the next day, picking up right where she left off and never missing a beat!

But, see, Patti was never an employee to me ~ she was my best friend and colleague, and I loved her like a sister. Through the years, we shared everything. The ups and downs with our children, our families, our aging parents, the business ... I know she was always there for me, just as I was always there for her.

We took many business trips together over the years, and what fun we would have. Sometimes, Mr. Horne would accompany us, but he never interfered with our shopping or eating ... thinking he was just there to pay the bills!

Our last trip together was to San Francisco in 2004 for the National Cable & Telecommunications Association's annual meeting. We arrived on Friday ~ she had friends in SF, so had dinner with them that night. Saturday, we went to a breakfast meeting and then out to shop. She mentioned that she didn't feel well and was short of breath, but we chalked it up to bad clams she had the night before with her friends. So vividly I remember this ~ her youngest child, Jeffrey, a proud Marine, was about to be deployed to Iraq, but there was so much chatter on the news about other things ~ it was right after the Pope had died and the Terry Schiavo feeding tube controversy was taking up the rest of the news. As we were walking down the streets of San Francisco, she looked at me and said, "Nancy, I am so upset that I can't hear about what is going on in Iraq. I'm worried about my Jeffrey. Why is this other stuff taking away the news? I'm sorry the Pope is gone. I feel terrible for Terry and her family, but it's because of cases like hers that I refuse to go to the Doctor. I hope, when my time comes, I will just fade away ~ no extraordinary measures, please. Just let me go!" On Sunday, we had meetings, and the Cable Pioneers Dinner that night. She made it to the Dinner, but had to leave because she became ill. We were scheduled to leave for home the next morning (Monday), and I wondered how I would get her to the airport and on the plane, but she seemed better that morning and was able to eat a big breakfast. We made it back to Atlanta, and my amazing Brian drove her car to the airport to meet us so she could go directly home, instead of coming by my house to pick up her car, where she had parked it on Friday.

On Tuesday, she came in to the office, but she looked so pale and so ill. A few minutes later, she came to me and said she was going home, she was too sick to work. I asked if I could drive her home or call her husband Steve to come get her. She simply said, "No, I'll be okay" ~ but she wasn't. I talked to her everyday that week, and it was obvious that she wasn't getting any better. The last time I talked to her was Saturday morning ~ she didn't recognize my voice. I said to her husband, "Steve, you have to get her to the hospital right away." The next day, a Sunday, she got her wish ~ she faded away. I spent  Saturday night at the hospital with her husband, Steve ~ we cried, we prayed, we read the Bible, but it didn't matter. Patti had Acute Mylogenous Leukemia ~ it struck her suddenly and took her suddenly. Now, this beautiful butterfly no longer has to fight to fly ~ no, she now soars with the angels, and I'm positive she has flowers in her hair. Yes, I'm sure there are flowers everywhere around her.

Just 18 months later, my amazing young son, Jeffrey, called me from the Georgia Southern Clinic, telling me he was sick, his hemoglobin count was low, and the Clinic was transporting him to the Emergency Room via ambulance. No one had to tell me what was wrong with him, see I knew what it was ~ I knew it was Acute Leukemia. I also knew what the outcome would be. My beautiful and amazing young son put up a courageous fight for 11 months, but this wretched disease shows no mercy.

And so it goes ~ now, like my dear friend Patti, I no longer go to Doctors either. When I walk into a Doctor's office, my face turns red, my blood pressure soars, my heart races, and I panic each time I see those machines, that medical equipment, those things that couldn't help Patti or Jeff ~ it's just not worth it. My amazing friend got her wish. I hope that, like her, I can get mine and just fade away, too.

Here's the thing, this is not a story about "The Rain, The Park and Other Things" but it is a small part of the story of my amazing friend, Patti, and the wretched disease that has taken so many. For Patti, for my amazing Jeff and Brian, and all the beautiful butterflies fighting to fly, won't you help us find a cure for Leukemia? To learn more and to support our mission to find a cure, please visit Jeffrey's Voice and donate today. No amount is too small ~ every penny, every dime, every dollar donated brings us closer to the day when no more are lost to Leukemia, when all remissions are permanent, and when, finally, there is a cure for all.

I Can't Stay Mad at You ~ Part Two ~ Skeeter Davis

"You can make me cry, you can break my heart, but I'll never say we're through. Even when I try, I can't stay mad at you."

We were among the first to get Comcast high speed Internet service. We were part of a "beta test" in a very limited area of metro Atlanta. We were all thrilled, as we had been using dial-up service, and, well, you may remember how awful that is! The high speed service was wonderful, and amazingly fast. At the time, the boys had a computer, just one, that they had to share. That, my friends, was a recipe for disaster. Jeff was a computer "hog", and poor little Brian just had to stand by and watch his brother! At some point, this usually degenerated into a fight ... sometimes verbal, sometimes physical. That's when we would have a computer "time-out" and agree to certain rules for sharing. That would last for a day or two, then Jeff would be back to his old ways, and Brian would just be the "onlooker". We'd have another "engagement", and then they would be forced to return to the sharing rules for a while. But, most of the time, Brian would be content to watch, soaking everything in like a sponge.

I, too, was an "onlooker", watching them like a hawk when they were using the computer, but I couldn't be there every single second. Our first computer "on-line incident" was with Jeff. He was in the seventh grade, and we had just gotten Internet service. One night the phone rang. It was a parent from the boys' school saying that Jeff had created a horrific and offensive website that was frightening some of the girls at school. She went on to say that this website said Jeff hated horses! Go figure ... I looked at his creation, it consisted of cartoon horses, and it wasn't particularly offensive. Apparently, though, it was to some of the girls in the school, and consequently the parents. The girls seemed to think that a 12 year old was going to somehow manage to travel alone to the stable where the girls' horses were kept and then somehow manage to do harm to their horses. Hmmm .... I told Jeff to take it down, immediately. He did, and we moved on. Still, it amazes me how the boys could do all of these Internet things. Creating and maintaining a website is still something I can't do!

Shortly after the horse website event,  Brian sent a prank email to his teacher. It was an e-card that implied, no stated, that this particular teacher was "fat". That was much more serious. The school took a dim view of his little "joke", as did his parents. Appropriate punishment was meted out, and Brian was off the computer for quite a while.

Next came Jeff's "My Space" incident. I was at work one day when I received an "anonymous" email. It said I should check out Jeff's My Space page and gave me the link. Well, I clicked that link, and I was appalled, shocked and angry! The language was horrific. I checked his friends' pages, and they were equally as bad. I wondered, "How should we handle this one???" It came to me in a flash ... I signed up for My Space with  the screen name "Your Loving Mother". Then I sent Jeff a one word message - "BUSTED"! When I arrived home, Jeff was sitting there in front of his computer just staring at the screen. I said, "So, you got my message," to which he replied, "Yes." "And, you are going to do what ....???" His beautiful blue eyes were terror-filled, but he held his head high and said, "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm taking it down. You can watch me." I watched while he deleted all the posts and closed out his My Space account. We had a lengthy discussion  about the use of foul language. How it is mostly used by people who aren't smart enough to think of the proper words, so they resort to mindless garbage. We talked about how things posted on the Internet can be harmful to him and to others. He seemed to listen intently ... he never had another My Space account. Facebook, well that's another story for another day.

These incidents, though upsetting, disappointing and awful at the time, were really only blips in the screen in the boys' race to become wizards of all things electronic! When we wearied over the constant bickering about computer usage, I brought an old one home from the office and gave it to Brian. Within the week, we had a "home network", long before most of us even knew what a home network was! It was pretty crude, consisting of an ethernet cord strung across the upstairs hall from Jeffrey's room to Brian's and connecting their computers. Now, they shared the Internet connection and could compete against one another with video games. They worked very hard on their "network" and were so proud of their accomplishment! Several years later, they decided to go wireless with their network, and purchased a wireless router. That was great, because now I could share the Internet, too! We had a "whole house" network .... That little wireless router lasted for years, and was still going strong when Mr. Horne and I moved from Atlanta to Florida last year. Occasionally, it would need rebooting, but before Brian left for college, he showed me how to do that.

Both boys, with very little formal training, became experts on windows and related programs. By the time they were 16 and 17, they started working for me, putting together my business Power Point presentations, slide shows and music videos. I would send them copy for the slides, and they would add graphics, music and finishing touches. If a presentation fell during out-of-school times for them, one or the other of them (sometimes both) would dutifully accompany me, checking out the presentation, making sure we had a back-up disc, connecting my lap top to the projector, and any other things necessary, all of which I had absolutely no clue about. And, yes ... I paid them for their efforts. They really were amazingly good! They were also my IT guys for the office. They knew how to fix just about anything that went wrong, so they were always my first call when we had a problem.

But, their fascination with electronics wasn't limited to just computers. They had just about everything you can imagine ... Nintendo, Gameboys, PlayStation, XBox, Wii, GPS devices, cell phones, iPods, iPhones, Mac Books, Satellite Radio .... you name it, they had it, and they were usually the first of their friends to get the latest version! Oh wait, lest you think we were overindulging parents, let me tell you that we weren't. You see, in addition to working for me every now and then, both boys had jobs .... Brian at McDonald's and Jeffrey at Dominoes. They would save their earnings to buy these gadgets. Sometimes they would pool their resources and share the games and game boxes. The amazing thing was that they seemed to require no learning curve for any of them. They simply picked them up and started using them!

Of course, when they had a combined cell phone bill of over $2,000 one month from their over use of the "texting" feature, we had to have a heart-to-heart. Needless to say, I was furious, so I marched them to the Verizon store, where they had to pay a hefty portion of that bill, as well as agree to a new plan with limited texts. They were cured from that point forward and soon learned how to keep track of their usage online to make sure they didn't go over. They weren't afraid of much of anything, but the fear of having to pay for over-usage again, kept them in line!

I could never stay mad at the boys for very long, even when they did things that causes a parent's heart to sink. They always had a way of getting back in my good graces with just a smile, a funny saying or doing something incredibly thoughtful without being asked. I miss them terribly. I miss not being able to call them when I have a computer problem, when my Blackberry isn't working properly, when my wireless connection goes out, when the cable is acting up. I miss not having them here to tell me how to fix these things.

But, here's the thing ... there is something that I will be angry about forever, and that's Leukemia. You see, if not for Leukemia, they would be here with me today. Leukemia is a wretched disease that impacts not only the patient, but everyone whose life is touched by the patient. Though I know that everything medically possible was done for Jeffrey, still we all, including Brian, had to sit helplessly by while he wasted away. Brian, who tried so hard to save his brother ... his lifelong companion and very best friend ... with his donation of stem cells for Jeffrey's transplant, was hit particularly hard by the devastating effects of Leukemia. Leukemia was the enemy of our boys ... now it is mine. I hope to make it yours. You can help in the fight ... visit Jeffrey's Voice to learn more about our mission to find a cure. Together, we can reach the day when no more are lost, when all remissions are permanent, and when finally there is a cure for all.

What Becomes of the Broken Hearted ~ David Ruffin

I wrote a guest post on my twitter friend's blog - his name is Jason Bourne, he has Spina Bifida, but that hasn't stopped him ... not for a minute! Please read my post ... comment if you can, but please help us find a cure for leukemia. And, please follow Jason on twitter and on his blog ... he is amazing!

So many don't understand the devastating and life changing impact of Leukemia. If you haven't experienced it, you cannot know. For all of those struggling with this wretched disease today, for all of those lost and for those yet to come, will you help? Visit Jeffrey's Voice and help us find a cure ...

Brand New Key ~ Melanie

"I ride my bike, I roller skate don't drive no car. Don't go too fast, but I go pretty far ..."

Jeff and Brian loved anything with wheels! When they were babies they would scoot around in their walkers, racing around the room on a collision course with just about everything, including each other and me! Of course, Jeff was walking on his own by the time Brian was in his walker, but that didn't stop him from squeezing himself into his old one and racing with his little brother. They had to have everything alike and do everything together. It was amazing to watch.

By the time they moved to tricycles, they had taken an interest in NASCAR. They would ride their trikes pretending to be NASCAR drivers. It was frightening to watch. I didn't think it was possible for a tricycle to acheive speeds of 30 mph ... well, in all honesty, they probably weren't going that fast, but it seemed that way to their terrified Mother! They particularly loved to try to replicate the crashes and would bump into each other's trikes at high speed, declare a caution, go slowly for a few laps around the cul-de-sac, then wave the green flag and start all over again.

They graduated to regular bikes with training wheels at what I considered to be a much too early age, but I was overruled by their need for speed and their Daddy, who thought this was great fun! Needless to say, the training wheels were removed within two weeks, and the two of them were off. That's about the time that I bought myself a bicycle so that I could "ride with them" ... at least that's the reason I gave them. See, I really just wanted to follow them around to make certain they didn't kill each other, something I thought was a very real possibility. They hated the helmets, elbow and knee pads I made them wear, but I told them to watch the next NASCAR race on TV, and they would see that the drivers all wear helmets and protective gear. Still, they called it "babyish" and wanted to know why they had to wear "this weird stuff" when their friends in the neighborhood didn't. "Why, Mommy ... why, why, why". That's when I would start singing, "Because Just Because" until they finally gave up. I won that one ... either helmets and gear or no bicycles. So, they never rode without them.

Next came in-line skates for them and for me! Glad we already had the helmets, elbow and knee pads. I would pick them up after school everyday, and we would go to their Granny's condominium complex, next door to their school. We would spend hours skating around the flat parking lot, while my Mom would sit on the balcony watching us. I actually became pretty good at it, though I was never able to use the toe brake. They, on the other hand, took to it right away and were racing around the neighborhood before long ... but not without their helmets and pads!

Then there were skateboards ... gosh, memories from back in the day! My amazing Mother brought one home to me when I was about 10. Didn't even ask her for one, she just brought it. Skateboards aren't the same today as they used to be, but so it goes.

We moved next to "Razors" ... those scooter things! The guys loved them! In fact, Brian and his friends used to take them to school their Senior year and rode them around the parking lot after hours. That didn't make Mr. Shellnut, the principal, very happy with any of them. In fact, I think Mt. Pisgah Christian School still owns Brian's Razor!!!

When they learned to drive, they did pretty well ... there were accidents for both of them, but no one was hurt and the damage was always pretty minimal ... except to the boys' cars. We bought all three of them Volvo's, because they were slow going and reinforced. Just didn't know that, in order to protect the driver/passenger, these cars cave in - in a V in the front, which totals the car, the engine, etc. So, three Volvo's later, we learned! Replaced them with Ford Taurus's. Jeff did well with his ... it was a good car, with minor incidents until a friend shot out the passenger side window one late night in Statesboro. Oh wait .... they were inside the car,  and the friend shot from inside to out! Brian's old, white Taurus, as he said, was a "POS" ... yes, it was, and he and his friends took it apart, piece by piece, trying to make it into a dune buggy ... go figure.

We didn't let Jeff take his car to Georgia Southern until mid-term his first Semester. We told him he had to make the grades first. So, when we took him down to Statesboro that bright August morning, he was carless, but he had a job already lined up ... at the Dominos Pizza owned by the same franchisee that he worked for in Dunwoody through high school. After we unloaded everything at the dorm, the first place he wanted to go was to Dominos. It was across campus from his dorm, and quite a long walk. His manager offered to sell him a bike for $10. He came out of the store grinning with the news. We said, "okay" and gave him a $10 bill. He came out with the bike .... it looked like it was made for a 6 year old, it was SO small. We put the bike in the back of our car and returned to the dorm. Then he got the bike from the car, kissed us goodbye and rode off. I'll never forget him riding away, all knees and elbows, on that tiny, little bike. It was a heart wrenching moment for me, but Jeff was so proud ... he was off on another adventure, wheels and all!

When it came to wheels, though, both Jeff and Brian were passionate for pick-up trucks. That's what they wanted. They both had them ... Jeff's a Toyota Tacoma and Brian's a Nissan Frontier ... and they both so loved them. They took wonderful care of those trucks, saving up their earnings to make them better with bed liners, mud flaps, running boards and more. When I think of how they enjoyed those trucks, it makes me smile. And, I thought they were safe in those trucks ... that made me smile, too.

But, here's the thing ... if I could have put all three of my beautiful and amazing boys in a bubble and kept them for always safe, I would have. Allyn let me do that for a while, but not for long and not anymore. The boys . .. well, they never did. They had no fear. Unfortunately, there are some things you cannot protect your precious loved ones from, no matter how hard you try. Leukemia is just such a thing, as is sudden cardiac arrest caused by heredity and a stupid mistake ... Brian's and mine. Still, I know, in fact, I am certain, that if not for Leukemia, they would both be here today. So, I'm asking ... will you help us find a cure? Our only mission is to fund research for a cure, because we know that is the best way to help all of those lost, those struggling today, and those yet to come. A kind and generous donor will match all donations up to $10,000. No amount is too small ... visit Jeffrey's Voice and help us find a cure for this wretched, hateful disease.

Brass In Pocket ~ The Pretenders

"'Cause I'm gonna make you see ... there's nobody else here, nobody like me. I'm special, so special ... I've got to have some of your attention ... give it to me!"

As parents, we know that each our children are special! No matter how many we have, whether it is one or, in the case of my Aunt Lois, 15 (wait ... there were several sets of twins), each has a unique personality. Each has special talents. All of MY boys do, and I know yours do, too. It's just that some children scream louder than others. I was blessed to have three beautiful and amazing boys. This is about the loud one!

Before Jeffrey was born, he had my attention. My wonderful Doctor told me early on that he was partial to "little red-haired" girls. You see, he had four beautiful red-haired girls of his own, and thought adding one to his crew might be a good thing! So, he told me, "Better hope you don't have a little red-haired girl ... I just might have to snatch her!" We knew shortly thereafter that Jeffrey would be all male! He was breech, so we spent hours with sonograms, and in the Doctor's office trying to turn him. One day after a particularly trying session, Dr. Newsome said, "This baby is trying to tell us something ... he's not going to turn, and we're not going to try anymore." From his very beginning, Jeff had a mind of his own!

He was born early one Wednesday morning in March by C-Section, and he came into the world screaming. He wanted everyone to know that he was here! I looked at him, then at Dr. Newsome, and said, "He has red hair, but he's a boy, so you can't have him! He's mine." Such an especially beautiful, little red-haired baby boy he was, with huge aquamarine eyes. 

We had a longer than usual hospital stay because of the C-Section, and he continued his screaming, except when he was in the room with me. The nurses would bring him to me and say, jokingly, "Mrs. Horne, please take this 'hateful baby'!" After we brought him home, he became affectionately known to us as "the hateful baby"! Oh, he was never hateful, just wanted us to pay attention. And, we did.

Before Jeffrey reached the "terrible twos", he had a younger brother, Brian. They were 16 months apart and for a while, Jeff called himself "Brian"! He was over that as soon as Brian could walk and play with him. Then, Jeff talked his little brother into all kinds of things! Eating worms, bleaching his hair, jumping from the top of the swing set ... all things that Jeff was afraid to do himself, but wanted to see how it would turn out if he had. Brian would do just about anything his big brother told him to do ... they fought like cats and dogs, but they loved each other very much.

When Jeffrey was a young child, he clung to me as though I were his life. It was hard to get out of the door every morning. And if I had to take Brian to the pediatrician and leave Jeff at home, you would have thought the world had ended. Such an amazing child! He could infuriate me more than you will ever know, and caused my heart to sink many more times that I like to remember. Still, he never left home without telling me where he was going ... was never one minute late without calling to say where he was and when he would be home ... and always took care of his little brother.

As soon as he could write, Jeffrey began scouting out places he could let his presence be known. Everywhere we went, he would find a spot to write, "Jeff was here." It was almost as if he knew, early on, that his time in this life wouldn't be long, still he wanted everyone to know he was here ... he wanted to affirm his presence. I'm still finding scraps of paper, books, calendars and things where he wrote "Jeff was here." I treasure each of them. Yes, my angel, you WERE here!!!

But, it was after Jeffrey's diagnosis of Acute Mylogenous Leukemia that he showed how truly special he is. He was diagnosed on his twentieth birthday. One night a few days later, when he was hospitalized, he sent me a text. It said, "Mom, I don't know if this will end good. Are you okay with that?" I texted him back saying that it certainly would end well, and that this was just a blip in the screen of his life. That's what we all wanted to believe, but it wasn't to be.

Through the eleven months of his illness, Jeffrey kept his sense of humor ... we threw food at the hospital walls, snuck him out every now and then, and generally did anything that would keep that amazing smile on his face. He never lost faith, and he never lost hope. He never gave up, no matter what the Doctors said. He was one determined young man, though he faced, head-on, the reality of his situation. Unless you, or a loved one, have personally experienced the treatments for Acute Leukemia, you can never know how horrific it is. Out of the 11 months of his disease, he was hospitalized for ten of them, off and on. Leukemia is not a cancer that can be removed by surgery. It circulates throughout the bloodstream, attacks vital organs, and just when you think it is gone, you find that it has hidden out somewhere, and it comes back with a vengeance. Jeffrey endured all of this with strength and courage that amazed me. It was especially difficult preparing for his Stem Cell / Bone Marrow transplant. That was right after Memorial Day, and I remember thinking ... after hearing what his prep would be ... I just need to pick up my baby and run ... run anywhere away from this. That's another song for another day ... "Nowhere to run to baby, nowhere to hide." There was nowhere to run ...

We made it through the transplant, and Jeff was officially in remission for three months. During that time, he decided he wanted an English Bulldog. Anyone out there ever owned one of these wonderful animals? Well, they, like Jeffrey, are high maintenance. We did a lot of research, found a reputable breeder, and brought our little "bully", Camilla, into our home. Jeffrey's transplant failed not long after, so he was never really able to take care of her. She became mine. Like her owner Jeff, Camilla demands constant attention, and she is just as determined and strong-willed as he! 

When his stem cell transplant failed, Jeff participated in a number of clinical trials. Each time I would ask him, "Jeffrey, are you sure you want to do this?" He would say, "Yes, Mom ... it may not help me, but maybe it will help someone else who has leukemia." And so, that's what he did. When it became clear that his prognosis was about as bad as it could get, he looked at me one night with those beautiful aquamarine eyes and said, "You know, Mom, God has a plan for this. It may be that I will get well and that I can help others with Leukemia. But, maybe I won't ... and then you can."

Here's the thing ... Jeffrey ruled my life for almost 21 years. He left me our little "bully" Camilla, who rules my life in his place. Thinking he did that on purpose. He's special and had my attention from the "get go"... see, "there's nobody else here, nobody like you," Jeffrey. But, all of those struggling with Leukemia and Blood Cancers are very special. Like Jeff, they are strong and courageous. Jeffrey handed me a torch ... to find a cure, and I will fight for that until I draw my last breath. No more can be lost to this wretched disease. Visit Jeffrey's Voice to learn more. Mine is only one story ... one song. There are so many others. For all of them, help us find a cure.

Spiders and Snakes ~ Jim Stafford

"I don't like Spiders and Snakes & that ain't what it takes to love me ..."

From the time I was a very small child, I was so frightened of things that crept, crawled and flew. I was afraid of anything that didn't have fur, and some things that did ... like mice and, dare I say, rats? Think my darling Mother taught me this fear, or perhaps it was in my genes. She was highly allergic to wasp, bee, and hornet stings and maybe her running from them affected me. Whatever, I still don't like them, but I'm not afraid anymore. When you face the worst, you lose the fear, I guess..

My Father was in the Air Force and was stationed at Patrick AFB, FL when I was about five. We were watching home movies one night ... this was before TV, or at least TV as we now know it. I looked up at the screen. There was a huge spider there ... huge and black . I remember screaming ... remember my Daddy taking it away. Remember him saying "It's a Black Widow" ... don't remember what he did with it, but remember being glad it was gone!

Then, when I was in the 7th grade, I met the first love of my life. His name was Johnny Martin, and he lived in a house just around the corner from me. One day, after school, he invited me over. He said, "I have something I really want to show you." I was in love, so I said "OK". His Mom was there, keeping a watchful eye, and followed us in to Johnny's bedroom. It was filled with aquarium after aquarium of snakes, lizards and spiders. I said, "How nice", but it was the end of that romance ... wondering whatever happened to Johnny Martin.

Life goes on, but my fear didn't cease for things that crawl in the night. Married my soul mate and partner for life, Mr. Horne. He really had no patience for my fears. I would scream. He would say, "What's wrong?" Usually, some little bug, but they were huge to me. He would rid us of the offending insect and that would be the end of it.

When our oldest son, Allyn, was born, my Mom and I, regrettably, instilled the fear and loathing for these creatures in him. He will dispose of these creepy, crawly things, but he doesn't like them!

But there was no fear in Jeffrey and Brian ... not from the moment they were born. They would delight in frightening me with frogs, lizards, and bugs ... bringing them inside, putting them in my face, just doing what little boys do. They ate worms and laughed about it. They are amazing! They especially loved taunting me when we came to the beach. There is a tree-lined boardwalk over to the ocean from our place. One day, we were walking over and I asked, "Boys, do you think snakes get up in the trees?" They just said, "Yes." I asked, "Do you think they would drop down on us?" They just said, "Yes." Didn't ask anymore questions, but I still look over my head every time I walk across that boardwalk!

One night, we were at the beach for a long weekend. Mr. Horne had gone to bed and the "boys" and I were watching, of all things, "Arachnophobia" - an awful movie about spiders invading and attacking a family and their friends. I was lying on the sofa, Brian on the love seat, and Jeffrey sitting in his chair. We came to a particularly exciting part of the movie, and we were all on the edge of our seats. Suddenly, from the ceiling, a spider made his way, totally unnoticed, down his web, right onto my chest. I screamed ... so did the boys. Then they laughed ... so did I. Jeff disposed of the spider, and we went back to watching our "spider" movie. There are no coincidences!

For Jeff's High School graduation, his beautiful girlfriend, Heather, gave him a Knob-tailed Gecko. Jeff tried to sneak it into the house without my knowing, but, as always, I was at the back door waiting for him to come home. He suggested I go to bed while he took care of something. Well that just raised my suspicions, so I said "No". He said, "OK, Mom, but you won't like this." In a few minutes he came in the back door with this lizard in an aquarium. He said, "I'm sorry, Mom. Please don't be mad. Heather gave it to me for graduation." What would you have said? I helped him in and just asked him to keep it away from me. It ate crickets ... more bugs! When he left for college, he took it with him, and I breathed a sigh of relief. At least it was out of my house.

But then, while away at school, he bought a Pygmy Ball Python ... to match his Gecko, I guess. When he became ill with Leukemia, he brought the snake home. Heather kept it for a while. Then it came home and lived in our basement. It ate mice ... how disgusting! Still, it made him happy and that was enough. Don't know what happened to the Gecko. It didn't come home. But, I found a wonderful place for the Python after we lost Jeff. It broke my heart to see that little snake go ...

I live now in a place where I and creatures of all varieties co-exist. Went out the front door this afternoon and a 6' snake slithered across the walkway. I DO NOT like these things - no, "I don't like spiders and snakes" - but like I said, they don't scare me anymore. The thing that scares me most of all is losing just one more person to Leukemia and Blood Cancers. Did you know ... nearly 1,000,000 people are living with these cancers today? Over 150,000 are newly diagnosed each year, and more than 50,000 are lost each year to these wretched diseases. Together, though, we can find a cure. Will you help??? Visit Jeffrey's Voice to learn more.

Short People ~ Randy Newman

"Don't want no short people ... don't want no short people, 'round me"

When Randy Newman released this song, he was vilified.  How dare he be so insensitive ... so politically incorrect?? Radio stations banned the song, state legislatures tried to pass legislation against it. He was accused of discriminating against short people ... it almost ruined his career. Come on, folks, it's only a song, and a pretty funny one at that. Get a grip! Where's your sense of humor? When I first heard this song, back in the day, I had a particularly difficult client who happened to be short ... he was about my size - 5'-4" on tippy toes. I think his shortness had nothing whatsoever to do with my difficulty to engage with him, still I heard this song, and I thought, "Yeah, that's George."  I liked it! Not meaning to offend anyone, but I am older now, I'm not politically correct, and I have lost two of my three children. Thinking I may have earned the right to say whatever I want! Besides, it's the perfect song for my post tonight ... so enough of that ... 

When Jeff and Brian started talking, they spoke in full sentences with incredibly correct grammar. Their older brother, Allyn, made sure of that. I wanted "baby talk", but instead I got, "Mommy, do you think it will rain today?" Or, "Mommy, what are we going to do today?"

So, one day when Jeff was about 4, he and I went to the video store to find a movie for him and his little brother, Brian. We were engaged in deep discussion about which movie to rent, when a man came around the aisle. He looked at Jeff, then looked at me and said, "Is he a midget?" We spoke a few minutes ... he was amazed by Jeff's command of language. He left, Jeffrey and I rented our video and headed home. Jeffrey never asked me about "midgets", but I could see he was thinking. We talked very briefly about  being short. But, his mind was working ... I knew he wanted to ask, "Mommy, am I a midget??" He didn't, but for the next several weeks, when we would go to the drugstore, the grocery store, or anywhere, and someone would tell him hello ... oh wait, Jeff was a beautiful little red haired boy and people always wanted to talk to him ... the first words out of his mouth were, "Hello, I'm NOT a midget." Everyone would just stare, but he was so cute, it didn't matter.

As the boys grew, Jeffrey was always taller than his little brother Brian. They are only 16 months apart in age, still Jeff shot up like a bean sprout. Brian was a slow grower ... beautiful, but pudgy and short. Jeffrey always called his brother "Shorty" ... I would say, "Just wait, Jeffrey, one day he will be a whole lot taller and bigger than you ... then you won't call him 'Shorty'". Took until Brian reached the age of 15 or so, but he outgrew his brother by leaps and bounds!

And when the guys reached the soaring heights - 6'-1" for Jeff and 6'-3" for Brian - they would delight in standing over me and saying, "MOM, you're short!" I would just smile and say, "Yeah ... and you're tall." How I miss that ... how I miss them.

But here's the thing ... Leukemia and Blood Cancers strike indiscriminately... no height, no age, no weight and no ethnicity is immune to the horrors of these diseases. It isn't hereditary and while there may be risk factors, those who are exposed to the risks may never get these diseases, and those who are never exposed to the risks, might. Every four minutes of every day, there is a new diagnosis. Every ten minutes of every day, someone is lost. Progress has been made in the search for a cure, but there is much work yet to be done. Will you help?? Learn more about Leukemia and Blood Cancers at Jeffrey's Voice and join us in the fight for a cure.

I CAN'T STAY MAD AT YOU ~ Part One ~ Skeeter Davis

"You can make me cry, you can break my heart, but I'll never say we're through. Even when I try, I can't stay mad at you."

There aren't enough pages in this blog or any other to describe the many times I was just so furious with the boys. They were always into mischief, and they delighted in seeing just how far they could push. In fact, this is just Part One of many parts of "I Can't Stay Mad At You". Still, through it all, those big and beautiful smiles took the anger away, and I could never stay mad for very long. But there is one time that is etched into my heart and memory - Brian and the Laundry ...

See, we did laundry at our house once a week ... except during football season, when the sweaty, smelly practice clothes required a nightly wash! The deal was that the boys would bring me their laundry baskets, then come back after the clothes were washed, dried and folded. They were supposed to pick up their clean laundry and put the folded clothes neatly away in their drawers. That worked great for a few months, but then they started just picking up their folded clothes and stacking them on top of their dressers. After a few "go to Jesus" meetings, Jeff started putting his clothes away. But, Brian ... well, for a week or two.

I was after Brian daily about putting his clothes away ... such a minor thing, really, now that I look back on it. What difference did it make? Still it bothered me. He promised me, nightly, that he would put them away, but the next morning there they would be ... stacked on top of his dresser.

One Saturday, when Brian was about 15, I took the first load of his clean laundry up to his room myself. He was sitting on his bed reading, and there were clean, folded clothes stacked on his dresser. It was more than I could take! I said, "Brian, I will be back in thirty minutes with more clean clothes. Before I get back, all of these clothes on your dresser had better be put neatly away in your dresser drawers ... I mean it!" He promised, "I will, Mom."

Thirty minutes later, I was back ... clean laundry in hand. I looked at Brian's dresser. It was amazing! There were no clothes on top. There was nothing there! The dresser top was bare. I couldn't believe it ... I said, "Brian, that's wonderful! You put your clothes away." He said, "Yes, I did, Mom."

Thinking I should do something nice for him, I decided to put his newly laundered clothes away for him myself. After all, he had put away weeks worth of laundry! So, I opened his dresser drawers ... I couldn't believe what I found. All of the neatly folded clothes I had worked so hard on over the weeks were a jumbled, wrinkled mess just stuffed into his dresser drawers.

I was furious! So, I shrieked at him, "Brian, look at this??" He lept off of his bed, studied the dresser drawers, then looked at me with big, beautiful brown eyes, a perfectly straight face and said, "MOM, this is OUTRAGEOUS. It's awful ... how in the world could this have happened???" Then he began straightening the clothes and putting them back in order. I just stood there looking at him in shock and awe as he neatly folded and put his clothes away. I had to leave the room to keep from laughing out loud. Couldn't stay mad ... don't think you would either. What an amazing child ... he had me wrapped around his little finger, but in the end, I won, too. The clothes were put away, and we never had that problem again.

Here's the thing ... everyday, we face irritations and annoyances that anger us. Sometimes its hard to remember what's really important, to keep things in perspective, and, most of all, to keep a sense of humor. If only I had another opportunity, I would let our boys stack the laundry to the ceiling. Truth is, there are so many other things to be concerned about ... what's a little laundry, after all?

Yet, there IS something that I can stay mad at ... in fact, I will forever rage against it, and I will fight it with every weapon I can find. Leukemia. My anger at this wretched disease will never end. I learned yesterday that another young and beautiful butterfly is in the struggle of her life against this horror. But, I know that, together, we can find a cure. Jeffrey's Voice has only one mission ... to fund research that will lead to that cure. There is so much work to be done. Will you help??

Sally Go 'Round the Roses ~ The Jaynettes

"Sally, baby cry, let your hair hang down. Sally, baby, cry, let your hair hang down. Sit and cry where the roses grow. Sit and cry, not a soul will know."

An amazing and wonderful little West Highland White Terrier came into our lives in 1997. She was Brian's ninth birthday present, but she was also more. See, that's when Allyn left for college, and I think Mr. Horne wanted to distract me. I was so sad ... I knew Allyn would never come home permanently, again, and that's how it should be. But it made me sad, so I left the light on in his bedroom for months.

We picked our little Westie up after school on the afternoon of Brian's birthday, September 18, 1997. We let Brian decide which of the little puppies would be the one for us. He chose Sally because she immediately came to him, nibbled at his toes, and made him smile. He carried her back home in his lap ... he was so proud!!! She was so tiny!!! We argued about names ... Jeff, Brian, Mr. Horne and I. We couldn't agree. Finally, I said "How about Sally??"  Surprisingly, everyone said OK. But, I wanted a bit more! I picked the name "Sally" because my wonderful Mom used to read me a Little Golden Book at bedtime every night ... "Sally, Skip Under the Bed." It was about three mice, Ned, Ted, "Sally Skip Under the Bed", and a cat named Stanislaus. That cat could always catch Ned and Ted, but he could never catch "Sally Skip Under the Bed"! So, our little Sally is officially named "Little Miss Sally Skip Under the Bed" ...

But this post is about Sally "going 'round the roses". Every night, Sally and I walk around the circle at our home in Florida. It's the same circle that the boys and I walked her around each night when we were lucky enough to come down here for our weekend and summer get-aways! It's really beautiful now, with the roses and azaleas in full bloom. Sally will soon be 14 years old ... pretty old for an amazing little Westie. Sometimes, she is weary and can't make it all the way around, but that's okay, too. You see, except for her, I would likely go screaming down the street in utter desperation and sadness. But instead, Sally and I  walk around the circle ... around the roses. Her life changed because of Leukemia, too. I think, like me, she cries every night that we walk that circle. Yet, she stays strong, and she keeps her ears and tail up. For as long as she can, we'll walk that circle, "cry where the roses grow, and not a soul will know".

Here's the thing ... Leukemia and blood cancers are wretched diseases. They are insidious and life changing, not only for the patient, but for those who love the patient so dearly. It's a roller coaster ride, and it changes moment by moment, minute by minute, second by second. So, Sally and I are "going 'round the roses" in the search for a cure, working for the day when no others have to suffer the devastating effects of blood cancers. Will you help us??? Join us at Jeffrey's Voice. Together, we can live in a world free of Leukemia.

Someone Saved My Life Tonight ~ Elton John

"You're a Butterfly and Butterflies are Free to Fly ... Fly Away ..."

Cheryl and I are Facebook friends ... we don't know each other personally. I live in Florida, USA, and she lives "down under". Still, though oceans separated us, I came to know her as a strong and courageous woman with two beautiful daughters, a wonderful sister and her amazing Carl. She is my friend, and so is Carl.

Cheryl joined our Facebook fan page ... Jeffrey's Voice ... and I had no idea at the time that she, herself, was diagnosed with Acute Myelogenous Leukemia. No, I didn't know until one night several months ago. Out of sheer frustration over the lack of awareness for desperately needed research into the causes and cures for leukemia, I posted the relapse and survival stats on our fan page wall. Cheryl posted back that she had been diagnosed with AML, was in remission, and that my post scared her. I removed it immediately and sent her a message apologizing. She responded right away, asking me to please put the post back up ... saying that all should know the devastating effects of this disease and thanking me for being honest with her and everyone. I remember that night. I remember agonizing over having upset Cheryl and wondering if I had upset others. I remember telling her to stay strong and that together we would reach the day when all remissions were permanent and when finally there was a cure for all. She was so gracious, so amazing, so strong. Cheryl, I didn't tell you how you saved my life that night, or how your courage gave me the strength to continue speaking out for a cure .. to be Jeffrey's Voice, your voice and the voice of all the butterflies. I didn't tell you then, and I am sorry, but somehow I think you know. You are an inspiration to us all.

Cheryl, my wonderful friend ... you are a beautiful butterfly .. a beautiful butterfly who fought so hard to fly. You no longer have to fight to fly. Now you are free. And, though it hurts us that you have flown away, we know that now you fly ... no, now you soar ... with the angels. You are loved and missed. Wishing peace for your family and loved ones ... you have already found it.

But, here's the thing, friends ... every four minutes of every day, there is a new diagnosis of Leukemia and other Blood Cancers ... 150,000 are lost each year. Wonderful, amazing and beautiful people like Cheryl lost to this wretched disease. We can lose no more. Together, we can find a cure. Will you help??? Visit Jeffrey's Voice and help us reach the day when no more are lost, when all remissions are permanent, and when finally there is a cure for all.

Elusive Butterfly ~ Bob Lind

"Across my dreams, with nets of wonder ... I chase the bright, elusive butterfly of love ..."

Sad today because we have lost yet another beautiful butterfly to blood cancer. She was one of the nearly 400 we lose everyday worldwide to leukemia and blood cancers, all of whom are beautiful butterflies fighting to fly. She was amazing ... a true patriot. Geraldine Ferraro, you don't have to fight to fly anymore ... now you soar with the angels.

Here's the thing .. together, we can find a cure for these wretched diseases. It will take time and money. Will you help? Visit Jeffrey's Voice and help us find a cure.

Rock and Roll Baby ~ The Stylistics

"Tootsie roll soul and little white shoes, Mama's (sic) sure proud of her little, bitty Rock and Roll Baby, singing at the age of two ... he can barely talk but he sure knows how to sing the blues."

Jeffrey and Brian have an older brother, Allyn. He is nine years older than Jeff, and ten years older than Brian, and he is my original "Rock and Roll Baby"!!!! He was dubbed that by my next door neighbor at the time, because he so loved to sing and dance ... even before he could walk and talk. He loved the "oldies", but he really liked disco, too, so he was also known as the "Disco Baby". In fact, when Allyn was about six months old, there was a disco show that came on television one night a week, and he was fascinated by it. You have to be pretty old like me to remember it, but I think it was called "Dance Fever" hosted by Denny something-or-other. It was a disco dance competition, but no celebrities or pros, just everyday people doing their disco thing. Allyn would sit in his little walker and bounce to the music, trying to sing the songs. He would laugh and clap and then cry when the show ended!

He was a "victim" of my singing, just like his brothers, except that, unlike Jeff and Brian who quit singing with me when they were about 9 and 10, Allyn sang with me until he reached the teenage years, when he decided he really didn't like to do much of anything with his Mom, whom he found to be "totally out of touch" with the world. Anyway, before then, Allyn always slept with the radio on. I would put him to bed, turn his radio on, kiss him and tell him goodnight. But, he did NOT go right to sleep! I would peek in on him, and he would usually be standing in his crib, dancing and singing to the music. If a song played that both of us especially liked, he would call me so that we could sing and dance together with the radio. We loved that!

When his brothers were born, Allyn would sing to them, too. He knew all of the rock and roll lullabyes that calmed them both, so if I was travelling, he would fill in for me. He was so very proud and excited to have his brothers, as he had been an "only child" for quite a long time. He loved to play with them, but he also loved to bedevil them, cause them to get into trouble, and make them do things that both he and they wished later that he hadn't. But, hey, that's an older brother for you.

Allyn has grown into a fine, very successful and amazing young man, but he will always be my Rock and Roll Baby. Through Jeffrey's illness, he was with us as much as he could be, though he had a very demanding position in DC. When the Doctors recommended that the best treatment for Jeff was a bone marrow transplant, Allyn was tested to determine if he was a match and would have gladly donated his marrow to save his brother. As it turned out, though, Brian was the better match. I think he was disappointed that he couldn't help his brother in this really personal and direct way.

Allyn took the loss of his brothers extremely hard. Once again, he finds himself an "only child". Still, he manages very well and continues with his very successful career. He makes me smile, and he makes me very proud.

Here's the thing ... there are so many leukemia and blood cancer patients in need of marrow matches who are not lucky enough to have siblings who may be a match. Even if they do have siblings, there is only a 1 in 4 chance that one may be a match. But you can help ... join the National Marrow Donor Program and BeTheMatch for someone in desperate need. The test is quick and painless, and you could save a life.

"The Day the Music Died" ~ Don McLean

I named this blog "A Song for Everything ..." for a couple of reasons. I've just always so loved to sing! Don't misunderstand, I'm not a good singer, not even close. In fact, there are those who would say I can barely carry a tune. Still, I've always loved music and I always sang.

Our boys, Jeffrey and Brian, said that I had a song for everything! I guess that's because I always did. I started singing to them from the first moment I held them in my arms. We began with rock and roll lullabyes every night at bed time, and progressed from there. It seemed that, no matter the situation, I could summon to mind a song that, with a few minor tweaks of the words, fit the occassion perfectly. They would usually express their extreme annoyance with me by shouting loudly, "MOM - don't sing!" That was just a momentary blip in the screen, though, and I would continue in song. What most agitated them was my answering their questions in melody. There was one song that they found particularly offensive ... a very old country & western titled "Because, Just Because." One or both of them would ask if they could have something or go somewhere or do something, and if it didn't feel right to me, I would say "No." Of course, then came the incessant questioning, "Why, Mom? Why? Why, Mom?" I'm certain that anyone reading this who is a Mother or a Father has just known in your heart that what your child was asking for or about, wasn't in the best interest of your child, so you, too, said "No" without having an answer to "why" that could be easily articulated. When that happened with the boys, I would sing "Because, Just Because ... " After a couple of times through the song, they knew that further questioning would get them nowhere, since, in spite of their protestations and begging, I just continued to sing over them. They made a trade-off ... it was better in their minds to have my singing stop, than it was to have or do whatever they asked about. In the end, we both came out on top!

But, when we lost our boys, I stopped singing out loud. Guess that was "The Day the Music Died" for me. Oh, I still love music and have so many songs in my heart and head. I just don't sing them aloud anymore. So, instead, I'm going to share them with you, if you will let me, and tell the stories I have learned over the last several years ... stories of hope, love and courage prevailing over seemingly insurmountable odds. And in so doing, I hope to light your torch with the one handed me by Jeffrey and Brian ... to make leukemia your enemy, just as it is mine and many, many others. You see, together, we can find a cure for leukemia, but there is so much work to be done. Will you help in the fight? Visit Jeffrey's Voice  to learn more about the devastating effects of leukemia and blood cancers and our mission to find a cure.

Here's the thing ... thinking that when we reach the day that the world is free of this wretched disease, I'll be singing at the top of my lungs!!!!

So, now I'm a blogger!

The thing is, I've wanted to try this for quite a while, but could never seem to focus enough to actually sit down and do it!! I have so many stories to tell ... so many memories to share. Stories about my two beautiful and amazing young boys, Jeffrey and Brian, and the time we had together in this life. But most of all, I hope to convince as many as I can about the need for research into the causes of and cures for Leukemia. You see, because of Leukemia, we lost our two amazing young sons. And, just 18 months before our Jeffrey was diagnosed, I lost my very best friend to the same wretched disease. It's personal for me ... the fight against leukemia ... it's very personal.

I hope you will join in the fight. Please visit our website to learn about the mission of Jeffrey's Voice, a public charity created to fund research for a cure for Leukemia and Blood Cancers. Together, we can reach the day when no more are lost to these diseases, when all remissions are permanent, and when finally there is a cure for all.

Here's the thing ... together, we can reach the day when the world is free of Leukemia and Blood Cancers.