When you attach a living, breathing person to it, the face of MD becomes a little more real. When the MDA asks, you contribute in the ways you can. The contribution of my “talent” (writing this here blog) is insubstantial, but it is what I can offer. So I do. Not well, but with my heart, and that’ll have to do. I have little to offer, but I thank YOU for your substantial gifts and support of my kid and me.
The video below was compiled by Elizabeth at our MDA chapter office ahead of this year’s Milwaukee Area Muscle Walk. It’ll be our third, and I’ll definitely feel like throwing up most of the week of up to and including our arrival at the walk site. Last year I took a little time out in the bathroom while my friend Nikki texted me through my anxiety attack just after we arrived. I may look all cool and collected on the outside, but. . . Actually typing that last sentence alone is freaking hilarious. Nothing about me appears cool and collected. Fun? Sometimes. Funny, sure. Frenetic? A wee bit. Not so much on the cool and collected.
My big kid is #whyIwalk. He was diagnosed with MD in 2015 at age eleven, and for the first few weeks after the diagnosis, the shock of the news was so much so that I could manage little more than to stare off in middle distance. So I began to write an online diary, which became this blog. Writing organized my feelings; it gave me something to give to others who asked, “What’s going on?” when I didn’t feel like talking about it early on. With the help of this online platform, I was able to raise an amazing amount of money for the MDA without having to ask people face-to-face, which is something I’m not terribly comfortable doing. My son attended MDA Summer Camp in 2016, and the experience was transformative and life-changing for him. I walk to help send him and other kids with muscle disease to camp. I walk so that other kids get to feel included, like they’ve found the only other bunch of kids who “get it.” I walk so that other kids find their safe place.
You see that each family has its own reasons, but common threads abound: Hope. Love. A cure. To walk for those who cannot. In gratitude. In memory.
I’m asking again, and I’ll hate doing it, but I’ll keep asking until April 30. Click here to find our team page. My supporter honor roll continues to grow as does my gratitude. Your kindness and generosity leave me breathless, but my words will never be enough to thank you. Love. My love for you? It’s greater than gravity.