Archive for March, 2010

Raising Money for Cancer Research

March 31st, 2010

I promise folks, this will be the only time I solicit anything from you on this blog.

I have made the possibly foolish decision of running the Boston Marathon on 4/19/10 to raise money for the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute.  I realize most of you who read this blog are strangers, so I wanted to share a little bit about my decision to run and the cause that’s very close to my heart, especially in recent years.

As a bit of background, I am running in memory of my Mom, who passed away this September at the far-too-young age of 59 after a four-year fight with Melanoma. Each day over the past four years was a struggle for my Mom filled with grueling treatments. It was enough to crush most people’s spirit. But not my Mom. She never complained, never asked why and never stopped battling. Her courage and grace was, and always will be, a constant source of amazement to me and all that knew her.

The thing that continues to stick in my mind is that my Mom’s story is not unique. There are so many individuals and families dealing with this terrible disease. In the United States, there were nearly 600,000 cancer-related deaths in 2009. We have made significant progress in the ongoing fight against cancer—but it’s not enough.

This is why I run the Boston Marathon—in memory of my Mom and in honor of courage so many people show each day to beat this disease. If I can muster even half the courage and dedication my Mom displayed—26.2 miles will be a walk in the park.  I realize it is a lot to ask of a group of strangers to support my run, but if you have even $10 to spare I hope you will consider this worthy cause: http://www.rundfmc.org/2010/chrisi.  I will personally match the first $250 in donations.

To give you an idea of the amazing woman my Mom was, I thought I would share the eulogy I gave at her funeral.  While it is deeply personal to me, I think it offers some lessons that all can appreciate.

I know this is way off topic from my usual blog posts, and I completely understand if you choose to skip this and move on—like I said, I won’t use this as a fundraising platform again.

Thank you in advance for your support.

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All you have to do is look around this room to get a sense for the type of person my Mom was and how loved she was by so many people.  I know many of you had to come a long way to be here today and my family and I are extremely grateful.

As many of you know, my Mom grew up in West Philly.  We often teased her, lovingly of course, about those roots.  And even though she would hate to admit it, I think the gritty, blue-collar attitude of Philadelphia is something that never left her.

It was evident in the way she preferred to teach us as kids.  You see, my Mom was more of a “lead-by-example” kind of parent.  Aside from the times when she would tell us “do you know what fat chance means?” upon making some outlandish request, or “don’t say sorry, just don’t do it,” we often had to look a little closer for the lessons my Mom was teaching us.  But make no mistake: she had plenty of lessons to teach, she just preferred to live them rather than simply preach them.

In thinking back, there were a number of times when my Mom used opportunities to teach us important lessons and I thought I would share a few of those with you today.

About 21 years ago when my Mom was pregnant with my sister one of those moments presented itself to us.  At the time, my Mom was driving an Oldsmobile Delta 88.  I don’t know if you are familiar with that car but it was approximately the same length as a Boeing 747.  The thing was massive and in order to make any sort of turn you ultimately had to have 10 feet of car jutting out into the road before you could even see the oncoming traffic.  One of those times, she was trying to make a left-hand turn onto a busy street.  The guy behind her needed to make a right and wasn’t able to go until my Mom turned.  He took it upon himself to lay on the horn for a solid minute to voice his displeasure.  Now remember, my Mom was 7 months pregnant at this time but that didn’t stop her from putting the car in park, walking up to the gentleman’s car and leaning halfway through the passenger side window to politely inform him she didn’t care how much of a rush he was in she wasn’t going to turn into traffic with two kids in the car and one on the way.  In this moment, my Mom taught us a valuable lesson: no matter how much pressure you may feel and even if it is not the easy route, don’t ever stray from what you know in your heart is the right thing to do.

Another important lesson revealed itself when I was in eighth grade.  I was playing basketball for St. Ignatius and we were in a tournament in New Jersey.  As was always the case, my Mom was sitting in the stands cheering me on.  Late in the game, I went up for a layup and came down awkwardly on my foot.  At a timeout, I told my Mom that I was pretty certain I had broken my toe.  In a loving, comforting tone, my Mom responded: “You’ll be fine; get back out there.”  As it turns out, I did break my toe during that game.  My Mom however was teaching me yet another important lesson: when people depend and count on you, never let them down no matter how painful it might be.

Along those same lines, during my years as a lifeguard in Sea Isle I thought it was a wise idea to compete in a six-mile bay row.  Now, if you know anything about my rowing prowess and the fact that my legs couldn’t reach the seat in front of me in the boat, you know this was not a wise decision.  But I was determined.  The race went pretty much as you would expect.  Just about every boat raced passed us and we were left chasing the pack.  But about 5.5 miles into the race, with every boat already finished and daylight in short supply, I heard the sound of my Mom’s voice.  She had walked up a bridge that was over the inlet and was screaming at the top of her lungs.  I’m not sure I would have finished that last ½ mile without her.  But my Mom knew one important thing: you should always be there for your family and friends, no matter how long you may have to wait or how dark it gets.

And my Mom saved perhaps her most important lesson for last.  As she continued to fight during her illness her commitment and courage were unwavering.  And the lesson was clear: a person’s faith and courage is not defined when times are easy.  A person’s true faith and courage is measured when times are tough.  My Mom’s faith never faltered and her courage was limitless.

At times growing up, I could be frustrated by the “lead by example” way of my Mom.  I didn’t understand why I had to search for meaning all the time.  Now I do.  You see, the thing is, because my Mom led by example, I know she is not done teaching us yet—we might just have to listen a little closer.

Thank you.

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