Rebecca Was Born Nine Years Ago Today, And She Died Three Years Ago Today

Today’s normally a quiet day in our house: it’s the anniversary of Rebecca Alison Meyer, who died of brain cancer on her sixth birthday.  We were with her in her final moments.

I’m still not quite over it.

Anyway, new readers may not know about Rebecca, because, well, there hasn’t been much new to say.  I wrote about what it was like, loving a girl with brain cancer.  Even three years on, Rebecca is with me always, quite literally: she’s tattooed on my arm.

I said it at the time, and I mean it today:

“Rebecca is a miracle.  Even if this was all we got, she is a fucking miracle, and I want you to know that.

“I just want more.

“I want so much more.”

And normally, I’d just huddle down and grieve and let it pass.   I can’t share every old ache.

But you’ll understand why this news story, released yesterday, might hit me pretty hard today.

I could rage. I could mention all the ways this isn’t fake news, or how it’s scumbaggery of the highest levels, or barrage you with a new essay on what it’s like to watch someone so young die and know there is literally nothing you can do to help her and then ask you to imagine what it’s like to raise money in the name of preventing that and then steal it.

But I won’t.

Instead, I’ll ask quietly:

If you have the spare money, and feel like donating to charities that will use your hard-won earnings to actually help children in need, please ponder donating to CureSearch for Children’s Cancer.  They help.

(And if you have any money left over, please ponder donating to Rebecca’s Gift, a charity founded in Rebecca’s name by Rebecca’s family, which helps families who have endured the death of a child to heal.)

Anyway.  I don’t know how I’ll respond today.  I might withdraw, I might engage, I’m not sure.

But if you’ve got the spare cash, use a few bucks to heal.  It’ll help everyone.

Promise.

Peace.