Recently my heart was broken.
I reluctantly returned to my home town in July to spend some time with my parents. I have realized as I have gotten older that I enjoy their friendship and it's worth a weekend in Amarillo to get to see them. It just so happened that the same weekend was a 60th anniversary party for some close family members woven into a wedding for a distant cousin. We made the trek down to lovely Hereford, Texas, where the smell of money fills the air, on that Saturday afternoon for the festivities. For those of you not from West Texas, Hereford is a cow town. I assume you can figure out what the smell of money is.
We had a good time - sat through the longest catholic wedding and service imaginable, ate dinner, had a few beers and glasses of wine, ran into the anniversary couple (who, by the way, are still so incredibly in love it's quite endearing) and then unexpectedly I ran into my cousin Julie. Julie is my surprise cousin, you see. I worked at a trust company in Texas and overheard one of my new coworkers talking about his girlfriend and when he mentioned her unique last name, I knew she was related even though I had never met her. I already thought the world of him, so when the two of them got engaged, then married, then had their first child, Luke, I got to know and love both of them.
Julie is the girl who walks into a room and everyone smiles. The girl who is so bubbly that if you are in a bad mood, you can only not smile in her presence for a matter of minutes. Her joy and faith is just simply contagious. She's purely amazing and I love her heart to pieces. When I saw her at the wedding, I was elated. I hadn't seen either of them in quite a while and I even got to meet their new baby Anna. It was definitely the cherry on top of the night to catch up with them and hug their necks.
Then a week later I got the news. Julie is sick. Leukemia. They found it while she was pregnant with Anna. The day I saw her, the day she was so chipper and beautiful and happy, she was told she had 6 weeks to live. I was crushed. My heart broke. She's got a 2 year old and a 4 month old and she has been given such devastating news. And Thomas, such a sweet, stand-up, strong guy. All I wanted to do was help, but I felt so helpless.
I have followed Julie's blog ever since I found out about her illness. She's been documenting her treatments and daily life. Then there it was one day - my opportunity to help. Julie needs a bone marrow match in order for a transplant to take place. She's had trouble finding one, but she wrote about
Be the Match a national marrow donor program. It's fairly simple on the front end, fill out the information online then they mail you a kit and you take mouth swabs and mail it back. I read through everything online, thought seriously about it, then sent in for my kit.
Once I got it, the enormity of it hit me. I hate needles. Like pass out hate. I'm not sending this in with the hope that I'm blindly attempting to help, but secretly hope to not get matched, I want to get matched. I had to sit with it for a solid week and prepare myself in knowing that sending this off could mean lots of needles or even surgery. But it also means something else - the possibility to greatly improve someone's life. The chance to truly help someone. I'll take a few needles for that.
So I swabbed my mouth, said a little prayer, and am mailing it off in the morning.
Please say a little prayer, a few words of encouragement, cross your fingers, send good vibes and lend positive karma to Julie. She's doing amazing and still just as cheerful as ever through all of this. I wish my heart was as big as hers.
Also, if you feel the desire, check out
Be the Match. Maybe it'll pull your heart strings as it did mine.