Another Kid in My Life

Last month I wrote this blog post about a few kids in my life to whom I am "Aunt Jane."

Now I have a new one to add to the list:  Duncan.

A little while ago, he sent me this photo:

There was a note that came along with it:  

Thanks again for my bone toy, Aunt Jane!!!
xoxo,
Duncan

I promptly replied with this:

You're welcome, Duncan.  Your dads are raising you to be so polite.  Better than lot of others kids these days. xoxo.

Sweet Duncan sent this in response:

 

Love that kid!

Children in Our Lives

As someone without any of my own, I've always believed that children come into our lives in many ways.

I've been lucky, and indeed they have.

Here's Matthew, the first one who ever called me "Aunt Jane."  He's my college roommate's son and he came into my life on July 11, 1995.  Today he's a freshman at Lafayette College, the place where his mom and I met.

Here's Ian, the second one to call me "Aunt Jane."  He belongs to my sister, and he came into our family on August 7, 2002.  A terrific athlete with a kind heart, he loves baseball, basketball and football, card games, Sponge Bob, and hanging out with his friends.

Here's Sam, who came into my life and the lives of thousands of others on  June 14, 2012, when his mother created this blog.  Sam loved turtles, frogs and bugs, played the piano, and spent lots of time doing fun things with his three siblings and the rest of his family.

Yes, children come into our lives in many ways.

They're not supposed to go out of our lives, however.  And they're certainly not supposed to die.

But that's what happened to Sam.  Exactly 18 months to the day after his mom wrote that first post, Sam died.

Nothing can bring Sam back, and nothing can take away his parents' pain.

Nonetheless, 81 individuals--mostly rabbis and Jewish professionals from throughout the country--have committed to shave their heads in March to raise money (and awareness) for childhood cancer research through St. Baldrick's Foundation. The original #36rabbis' $180,000 goal quickly was surpassed, and the group has now raised nearly 77 percent of the updated goal of $360,000.

With March 31 quickly approaching, what better way to honor Sam's memory, support families in the midst of battling this horrid disease, and sustain hope that childhood cancer will become--speedily and in our day--a thing of the past?

War is Not Healthy...: A #DaysofAwe Post

Although I spent most of my growing up years in New Jersey, my family did live in Silver Spring, MD, just outside Washington, DC, from 1968 to 1972.  It was a crazy time in a crazy place, and even though I told my mother I wanted to be a hippie for Halloween one year, I really didn't know what hippies were, and I knew even less about the war they were protesting.

In my memory, though, this image was everywhere during that era:

How sad that the world seems not to have learned much during the last four decades...or, in fact, during the many millennia that came before.

Inspired by Stacey Z. Robinson, this post is one in a series marking the Days of Awe, the 10 days of reflection, repentance and renewal between Rosh HaShana and Yom, Kippur.  Because Stacey graciously provided a list of writing prompts for this period, I'm going to play along...perhaps not as diligently as I did during Elul, but as time and inclination allow.