#fuckcancer

Harsh words, I know.  But seriously, FUCK CANCER.

A colleague of mine, Deana from the University of New Hampshire Environmental Engineering program lost her son, Everett or Rett, to cancer on Sunday.  Her son wasn't even a year old and is gone.  The mother, once concerned about cloth diapering and sleep training, will never smell her child again.  Will never get to throw a birthday party.  Won't be able to feel his warm skin under her embrace.  You get the picture, this fucking sucks.  It hurts my soul and I ache for Rett's mother, father, grandmother, grandfather, aunts, uncles, and anyone touched by that little boy.

My words are rough, but her words are far more eloquent, especially given the circumstances.  She shared her son's journey and short battle with routine posts Facebook.  Even announcing his death in the most beautiful words possible.  (Meanwhile, I couldn't think of anything but four letter words).

Family members set up a GoFund account in his name a few months back to support the medical bills and absences from work for Rett's Mom and Dad.  Deana now hope to turn the account into a "Rett Fund" to support other families going thru the same thing and to support research of childhood cancers like the one that took Rett's life, rhabdoid tumors.  If you feel inclined, check it out: Rett's Fund.

This time of year, especially the end of March, always seems rock me off my axis for a bit.  But February seems to suck pretty hard this year.

I know everyone reads this blog to see happy posts of the kids.  But today, the mood just doesn't seem right.