When Life Hands You Lemons…

…you either taste the bitter juice and let it twist your face into knots or you add a little sugar, find the sweetness and make one giant pitcher of lemonade…to share.

We were asked several times this week “why carry on? Why continue in the fight? Why not curl up in bed?” As Mike and I were asked this question by several people, we realized that our answer was always the same. “We have to. We just have to.” For us it is that simple and that “easy” of an answer, though the actual process of doing so is not always so easy. It’s never simple. It’s making a choice day in and day out to face the absolute horror of our lives, to CHOOSE to tell Kate’s story over and over, to hurt to our core each and every day because the only reason IT exists is because she no longer physically does. It’s the belly of the beast every day and I am constantly aware of childhood cancer and constantly wanting and longing to do more, limited by real life “things” and responsibilities, never knowing if we’re doing enough.

Liz & Jay Scott are no different from us. They are parents. They are Alex’s parents. And during the busiest time of year for their team of nearly 60 (!!) at Alex’s Lemonade Stand Foundation, they opened their office and their time to us and made us fee like we were important. They made us feel like we ARE doing enough. Like we are exactly where we are meant to be with our grant co-sponsorship with them, and it was never more apparent than this week.

Liz & Jay sat with us, talked with us about our goals, about what we hoped for Kate’s Cause. They asked us about our events, about our strategies, gave us amazing tips and advice and asked about Kate. We were interviewed by their PR team about why we chose to co-sponsor a grant with ALSF and about why working with them has been so beneficial for us, as a small organization.

I am thrilled beyond beleif to share that while there, Kate’s Cause awared another $50,000 to fund TWO grants in 2019, bringing our total funding to $75,000 in just one year.

The first will be an Innovation Grant, designed to provide critical and significant seed funding for experienced investigators with a novel and promising approach to finding causes and cures for childhood cancers. This will be awarded to a project of our choosing in July, followed by a Reach Grant, designed to move hypothesis-driven research into the clinic. The two year grant is intended to fund developmental therapeutic studies in the late stage of preclinical testing and will be awarded to a project of our choosing in November.

I don’t have any facny photos to share. I don’t have any pictures of us with the team or snapshots of, well, anything. All I have is this photo of our big check and a bag full of dinosaurs. And a full and grateful heart for our supporters and donors, allowing us the opportunity to be a part of something so inspiring and exciting as these grant opportunities with Alex’s Lemonade Stand Foundation.

To the Clinic…and Beyond!

We have just settled back at home after a whirlwind four days of activity celebrating Kate’s birthday. I have so much to say and share so I’ve decided to do so in three posts to give each special day its own attention. Each day seemed better, more moving, more inspiring than the last and each day, I felt more and more like we are exactly where we need to be and my passion for this cause grows on.

Wednesday marked Kate’s 8th birthday; her fourth in Heaven. We started out the day as we’ve done in the past few years, with balloons and pancakes, and we headed to pick up our UHAUL van to load up the 25+ bins & boxes of toys! Truthfully, I lost count as to how many toys and prizes were donated this year, but suffice it to say, it was A LOT.

We first delivered to the hospital, where our beloved Dr. Dulman met us for hugs. Then, we were off to the brand new clinic, which Daddy & Grandma got to see for the very first time. We were met with those who knew and love Kate; some of her nurses, her art therapist and child life specialist. They love the toy drive as much as we do and were so grateful for the support.

Along with the toys, we were able to deliver 12 cases of Girl Scout cookies thanks to our sweet friends at Troop 3015, who had these donated to us for the families in the clinic!

After delivery, Mike & I packed up the car and the big check and headed north to Philly where the whirlwind really began…

Kate: In Her Own Words

I’ve sat down numerous times over the last several years, wanting to write about Kate, or her Mommy, or her Mommy and Daddy. I’ve wanted to express how deeply Kate touched my heart and make sure Mike and Lindsay know that we are here for them no matter what, no matter when, no matter how. You see, I’m not a writer, I don’t do well expressing my feelings on paper, I just don’t, and that’s ok. But on the eve of Mother’s Day, one of the hardest of all holidays, I want her to know how much she is loved,
admired, respected and appreciated.

Her name is Lindsay White Rhoades, she’s Kate’s Mommy and one
of the best Mommy’s I’ve ever been fortunate to know. I met Lindsay in May of 2013, when she was still Lindsay White. Thanks to YEO, we traveled to cool places together, had some amazing experiences, and laughed…a LOT. She met her amazing husband Mike, who could appreciate the fact that I made fun of his soon to be wife when she tripped as she was heading down the aisle to marry him. He’s smart, funny, kind, and has a heart of gold, he loves a good debate and brown spirits.

On June 5, 2011 Kate Olivia arrived and completed their little family, sweet,
beautiful, perfect Kate. That lovable girl held the hearts of everyone she met, and she continues to embrace the hearts of those that didn’t have that privilege. I was blessed that on two separate occasions she sat in my lap to take a few selfies and to open presents for her birthday.

When we have children we look forward to and hold onto the small things, the I wuv you’s, the wet kisses, the hugs that are so warm and slobbery but you never want to let go, the joy that, at the moment, your child wants to be with you and only you, the cuddles under warm blankets on a cold day,
the joy of bubbles or of jumping in puddles, their perfect little hands and feet, talking about Parasaurolophus and their friends, watching your child take “schnoozies”, or that your child’s favorite color is the rainbow because she didn’t want to leave any colors out, and the giggles, the wonderful
giggles. We have all witnessed that pure joy in Lindsay from the moment Kate entered this world.

Lindsay is a prolific writer, you feel the raw emotion in her ability to capture moments perfectly, as she expresses her feelings so vividly. That beautiful, smart, kind, brave, strong, wonderful, loving woman is making sure that none of us forget Kate, that her death will not be in vain, and founded Kate’s Cause to do just that. Lindsay makes things happens. She has an ability to rally people and get things done.

Losing a child is the loneliest, most desolate journey a person can take and only those that have experienced such a thing can understand. Mike and Lindsay have joined the exclusive club of people who have experienced a grief so deep that is truly immeasurable to those who haven’t. Those of us who know her well, those that have met her through the loss of their own child, and those of you who have been drawn to follow her have all been witness to the undeniable strength, resilience, perseverance and true love she possesses.

On the eve of Mother’s Day, I ask that we continue to remember Kate, if you see something that reminds you of Kate, tell Lindsay, speak Kate’s name, share your favorite picture, tell stories of your interaction with her and don’t be afraid to ask about Kate, to want to know more. Lindsay and Mike will tell you anything you want to hear. Know that we can’t fix this, as much as we want to, and accept how broken they will always be without Kate and be ok with providing the love and support they need. Understand when they need time out and that not a day goes by that isn’t a struggle.

The toy drive is still running , just a few more weeks to buy a toy for the clinic, or make a donation; $4 for how old Kate was when she became an angel, $12 for the date that Mother’s Day falls on this year, or any amount that works for you. Let’s give her the best Mother’s Day we can, knowing that this is one of the worst for her, and because she deserves a good one and so much more.

It is a privilege to call her my friend and I am forever grateful for her. Thank you, Lindsay, for all that do, the world is a better place with you in it.

Happy Mother’s Day, my dear friend. I love you!

Katherine: In Her Own Words

The Kate’s Cause Birthday Toy Drive is always a little bittersweet for me. Don’t get me wrong, I love it and it’s a perfectly Kate way to give back to the community. But, it also makes me think about the utter joy on her face as she opened presents. It didn’t really matter the occasion or what was under the wrapping paper, she loved opening gifts. You’re probably thinking what kid doesn’t, and that’s true. But with Kate, it was as much about getting the gift as it was about her wanting you to know just how much she appreciated it.

I remember sitting on the couch at Lindsay and Mike’s house with a present I was pretty sure she would love. It was 2014, she was in the middle of treatment and it was a particularly tough time. As I watched her open it, she watched me out of the corner of her eye, pausing to oooh and aaah every so often, gently pulling off the wrapping paper. As she pulled the Pteranodon wings out of the paper, she started grinning ear-to-ear. For the next 15 or so minutes, she flew around the room being chased by her daddy wearing a T-rex head. It was 15 minutes of perfection. The memory is so strong that I can close my eyes and replay it in my head. It’s how I often think of her now — flying around, being goofy, with a big grin on her face. I always stop when I see toys in the store. I look for ones that I’m pretty sure she would like, and I think about her and those wings.

If you haven’t had a chance, take a look at the toy drive list. Find a toy that makes you smile. Think about the joy it would bring to kiddos fighting for their lives, and help Kate’s Cause bring an ear-to-ear grin to another beautiful face.

Easter After Great Loss

I missed sunrise service at Kate’s Place today, the sweet garden in the back of our church and in front of the preschool where Kate spent her days the last four months of her life.

I say “our” church as if we attend regularly. Truthfully, we don’t. I’d like to, but only recently did Pastor Gary retire. I couldn’t hear his voice without thinking of her funeral and, well, that’s just not something I aim to revisit. There is a new Pastor, who Kate’s Grandma really likes. I wanted to go…they held the sunrise service there today because “it’s the prettiest place we have.” Truth…on so many levels.

Like many, Easter used to be mostly about the bunny, the eggs and the chocolate. Only in the crushing pain of Kate’s death do I truly understand the power of what today means and how it has changed everything about my life.

Easter and the promise of eternal life in Heaven…it’s what I live for now. 
But. I read this blog early this morning, when I’d hoped to be at church and it summed it up precisely why I was missing that service I’d so hoped to attend. I am still “Saturday people” afterall. I am still reeling over what happened just yesterday, and I don’t yet KNOW what will come.

I have learned and come to completely believe that our separation is temporary, but knowing she waits for me often makes the pains of today harder. Why? How come? Well…because my hope in the future does not lessen the pain of my today.

Because today, I’d really like to have an almost 8 year old on a sugar high running through the grass and pink cherry tree petals of my front yard. I’d really like to know who she is and what makes her tick today. I’d really like to know if she’d ever eat jelly beans and I’d really like to not have to miss her like I do.

Miss her I do. Today and every day. I love you Kate. I miss you. Best friends forever. I promise.

And because He is Risen, I really do mean forever.

Marc: In His Own Words

I’ve started this at least 10 times already, but I must get it right. See, I’ve written to/about you before, but that was my blog, my space. Now, your Mommy gave me the honor of writing something in your name where your army of supporters will see it, and to do you justice, it must be perfect. Because, my gosh, you were perfect, sweet Kate. You were too young and vibrant and loving to be anything but perfect. Too perfect…

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Megan: In Her Own Words

Kate has had an incredibly large impact on my life. She provides me with a sense of calm, passion, and perserverance; things I historically struggled with.

When I get tired and feel overwhelmed, I remember how tired she was during treatment and that cuddling on the couch with her mamma made her happy. So I take to my couch and cuddle. When life gets busy, I am reminded to look for the little joys and embrace them. Often baking with my girls and talking about “our Kate” as they call her.

My heart lights up to see Kate’s photo or the Kate’s Cause logo pop up in my notifications, knowing I will have a chance to share her story and honor her memory. When shopping, I often find things Kate would love and purchase them for my girls or to donate to the children’s hospital in her memory. We have dinosaur salt & pepper shakers and a dino cookie jar, both purchased at moments like this.

When I feel helpless in the fight against childhood cancer I donate platelets which are used to treat leukemia patients at Inova. I visit her often; I stop by on random days when I am in the area, on rainy days when all is quiet and still, and on warm sunny spring days. I leave feeling peaceful and connected to her.

She makes me a better person, a better friend, a better mother daily. She makes the world a better place.

Thank you Kate! Love you always!

A Letter Today, Just Because I Miss You

March 3, 2019 1:27pm

I’ve spent less time in here. Have you noticed? I feel like I should have more…or maybe better things to say besides how much I miss you. But here, among your things and your bed and your sweet clothes, it’s the only feeling I have besides how much I love you. Is that okay? That nothing more interesting or profound comes to mind? Nothing more earth shattering?

Funny isn’t it? That I say that? Feels pretty profound and earth shattering to me. Maybe only to me and those who love you. But that feels like enough to make the Earth stop moving. But it hasn’t. And I’m still not sure how.

I miss you. And I love you. And I have no way to tell you, so I say it out loud every day. I think I speak to you all day, every day, don’t I? I don’t even know anymore because I don’t think I ever stopped. I think you are around me like the air.

I am terrified of forgetting you. Your unique “you-ness.” Your smell. Your touch. Your weight. The feel of your breath. But how could I, really? Here, in your room, I remember it all. It hurts so much, but it feels so right. Necessary. Because it’s you, and the pain AND the love I feel for you are all I have left of you. What else can I do but say I love you and I miss you every day?

Love and miss you I do, my girl.  Love and miss you, I do.

When Facebook Memories Aren’t Needed

Facebook memories. They can be so helpful and hurt so much at the same time. Reminding me of little moments I may have later forgotten, or slowing down my pace to linger and smile over a chubby baby foot or get a chuckle out of a sweet thing she once said.

But there are days like today where no memory of anything that happened prior to or after January 10th, 2016 can erase what THAT day brings to mind. There weren’t any posts or pictures but it’s burned into my head and heart deep and searing.

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