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.