Sunday, November 25, 2007
Life
Taking care of what matters
When is my head going to come out of my ass?
Juli has been my friend since my first days in Atlanta. We know just about everything about each other—the good, the bad and the very, very drunk and ugly. In the early months of marriage, I once showed up at her house with a packed suitcase. I was so mad at Jimmy that I stormed out of our house with some things and announced that I would be moving in with Juli (and her husband Jonathan). A few drinks later and a long talk from off the ledge, I called and reconciled with Jimmy and slept at home that night. Juli and I spend birthdays and holidays together. She cried when she found out I was pregnant. My husband didn’t even cry when he found out I was pregnant. Oh wait, yes he did, but it was for an entirely different reason.
So that’s why I was particularly restless and feeling extremely horrible about forgetting a charity event Juli had organized and executed (flawlessly, I heard from other party-goers) to raise money and awareness for Ian’s Friends Foundation (IFF, www.iansfriendsfoundation.com), a nonprofit organization that funds the support of pediatric brain tumor research.
IFF was founded by Phil and Cheryl Yagoda, proud and loving parents of a fantastically cute and cuddly little guy—the kind of kid you want to eat up. Phil writes, “My wife Cheryl and I are the proud parents of our three-year-old son Ian. Approximately one year ago, our little boy was diagnosed with a type 2 astrocytoma located in his brain stem, more commonly known as a brain tumor. As shocked as we were at the time to hear and contemplate the horrific disease that plagued our child, we were equally shocked to learn that there was hardly any research being done. Today in this great country that we live in, the No. 1 cause of childhood death is accidental death, with the second leading cause of childhood deaths being cancer. The No. 1 cause of death relating from cancer are brain tumors.”
It’s enough to break your heart. But Ian’s parents aren’t sitting around waiting for something to be done. And neither did Juli. Juli’s involvement is made even more significant, in my opinion, because she has two boys—one an inquisitive and handsome 4-year-old and the other a chunky, ridiculously happy and precious 10-month-old. She doesn’t have a stake in this personally. Pediatric brain tumors have not touched her family, but this doesn’t mean she doesn’t care and that she’s unwilling to do something about it. After all, one look at Ian’s sweet brown eyes and plump apple cheeks, and you feel as if he’s a part of your family too. So in the congestion of the holidays, the frenzy of raising two boys, working and maintaining a marriage and a home, Juli threw a fundraiser and raised a very significant amount of money that will, God willing, help to find a treatment for young Ian and so many other children just like him.
And I couldn’t remember to call her and ask how it was. Yes, we were in Costa Rica that week, but I was back the day after the event, and I should’ve remembered to at least call and ask about it. I write this a couple of days before Thanksgiving, a holiday when I will sit around a big fat table full of food. In my lap will be my hefty little butterball of a boy and to my side, my husband—two people I am very, very thankful for. But I am also thankful for my good friends. Friends like Juli, who has stuck by me and who has a heart as big and full as the giant stuffed turkey that awaits consumption on the buffet. I am thankful that I have a good friend like her, someone who is always giving of herself when she so easily could say she was too busy to do something meaningful like she did for Ian and his family. If you have a chance, please visit www.iansfriendsfoundation.com and also tell a friend how thankful you are for his or her friendship. And try to keep your head out of your ass; I know I will. SP
Lisa Baron is a communication consultant, which you’d think would be helpful in a marriage. She lives in the suburbs with her husband, Jimmy, and her son, Micah. E-mail her at lisabaron@sundaypaper.com.