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.