14 Years…
Where do I begin? You
would think after 14 years this would get easier, but to the contrary, each year is harder than the last. I’ve spent over 80 hours in by basement this
week. Oh, and its Wednesday! I’m hoping my boss
doesn’t read this because there aren’t enough hours in the week! For those of you that
know me, I hate my basement. It dark, my husband decorated it, and most days it’s Sal’s game room… as
it should be. But this time of the year this is the auction room. …The Sal’s Pals room. On any given day you will find
several computers down here in “the dungeon,” (as I call it,) along with tubs of items ready for bid.
Over the years I have had multiple people ask me, “How do you find the time to put this event on? How
do you get everything donated? How do you keep doing this year after year?” The answer is
pretty simple: I’ve been blessed with a pretty
awesome circle of people around me. I’m not
saying any of this is easy. When you hear the old saying, “It takes a village…” Well,
we have TEN zip codes of people helping us fight CF! I guess what I am saying is, in order for this event to take place, we need a vast amount people
from multiple organizations to come together to
make this happen.
Would my life be easier if I just settled on the fact that Sal does above average for a cf
patient? Absolutely! My house is a hot mess, I
haven’t cooked dinner in a week, and I am
slightly snappy these days to say the least. But at the end of the day, my house will work out. The
laundry will get done, and we will eat some fabulous carry out! No one is naked
and starving in the corner at our house!
Through the chaos, I try to remind
myself that we are doing something that goes far
beyond ourselves. So, when I start to
freak out, this is what I have to remember: People’s lives depend on the work we do. Would it be easier
for me to say, “We
are taking break?” The answer is YES…for sure! But who’s life does
that benefit? People are dying from CF every day because the right medication
or treatment did not benefit them in time. How do I tell my son that I quit because
my life is a little disrupted? His life is disrupted every day by 40
pills and an hour worth of breathing treatments.
I can’t quit now even though I could come up with a million
reasons to. I hate my basement… but I love my son more! When you start to put little
things in perspective, everything else falls
into place.
My advice… if you are committed
to something bigger than yourself, no matter what that might be, you keep your
vision and you dedicate yourself to whatever that is and you let that be your
guide. For me, my son’s health and well-being is what
I’m committed to. So, I stay dedicated, because I truly believe that the
dollars we can raise for the CFF will give my Sal the years of life he needs. So, dungeon… here I come!