Sunday, June 21, 2015


There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. 

I watched you take your first breath, I saw the life fill your eyes.

I knew you before you knew me. 

I held you before you held me. 

But, you changed me, before I changed you.

I would give my last year, my last day, my last hour for you. 

I would give you my last breath. 

I would walk with you, I would let you run. 

I would let you run farther, I would lift you up.

I would raise you on my shoulders, I would raise you as high as I can go.

But you'll climb higher than that. 

I would teach you, I would be taught by you.

I would present you at the feet of unworthy kings and magistrates, and they would know to bow low.

I would carry your name on my lips to the farthest corners of the farthest ends of this world. And every other world. 

I would keep you forever. 

To the right one, I would give you away.

I would hold back Earth and Hell for you. 

I would give you all that I have. 

I would give you more than I'll ever have. 

I would hold your hand. 

I would know your heart.

I would cheer for you, I would weep with you. 

I would never leave you, I would live for your smile. And your laughter. And your tears and your triumphs. 

I would serve you.

I would serve by your side.

I would be a better man for you.

I would be noble, because you are noble.

I would see you with my last waking moment. 

I would feel your touch on my hand, when all else has faded to shadow.

I would love you, for longer than life or space or time. 

 I would be your father.

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Racing for a Cure

I can't get this image out of my head.

A sea of humanity.

A river of pink.

Thousands upon thousands of people, in pink scarves and hats, and tutus, and feather boas, and t-shirts with barely disguised innuendo, and pink tiaras, and pink striped socks, and all for one purpose:

To kill a monster.

If you don't already know someone with breast cancer, you will. One in eight women, in the United States, will develop invasive breast cancer in the course of their lives. Last year nearly 40,000 women  in the United States died from breast cancer.

Those statistics floored me. How many women do you know? I have a wife, and two daughters. I have a mother. I have a mother-in-law who has faced this beast already. I have sisters-in-law, and friends and neighbors.

This is a fight for life, and this monster has to die. 

 And how do you beat this killer?

I'll tell you what I saw today. You put on the goofiest costume you can find, and you laugh in the face of death. You take back your body.

You celebrate every breath, and you remember the ones who have fallen. And you pick up the standard, and you lock arms, and you march straight into the jaws of Hell if that's what it takes.

Defiance is a characteristic of the human spirit. No one likes to be told what to do. And when cancer says die, you can be damn sure that someone is going to resist.

And, when the monster is breast cancer, the front lines will be clothed in pink scarves and hats, and tutus, and feather boas, and t-shirts with barely disguised innuendo, and pink tiaras, and pink striped socks. 

And they'll be laughing, because they know they are going to win this war. 

 This monster is going to die.