In the past three years, we’ve all been a part of Dad’s annual golf tourament raising money for the Michael J Fox Foundation. And in those three years, he’s raised nearly $80,000.
Yes, we all have our parts. Em and I sponsor a hole and donate our time that weekend. Mom keeps Dad sane and helps out. And many family and friends help out by donating some money.
I’ve always wanted to do more though. And once we got word that we all couldn’t attend the Michael J Fox Foundation’s MVP dinner this April, I decided to take the weekend I was going to have off and move that to a NYC fundraiser.
And I got Emily to come join me!
So on April 27, Emily and I will be joining Team Ryan’s Hope at the Parkinson’s Unity Walk in Central Park.
That’s John Ryan, who you’ve heard about here, in Dad’s post about Parkinson’s making a band of brothers; and here , where I got all dressed up and went to a fundraiser with him and his wife, Barbara.
I’m really excited to go, and excited to raise a little money of my own. I set my goal at $1,000, and I hope I make it!
Want to help me out by donating a few dollars? Here’s the link to my page.
And here’s my statement:
As a child, I always thought my parents were super human. They didn’t have super powers other than knowing when I was lying. But they were larger than life.
I think that continued much longer for me than most kids, until the one day I realized they were human. And my father could be subjected to Parkinson’s disease.
It would cause me to doubt his health. his strength. his ability to live forever.
It would make me wonder if he would ever see me become the person I wanted to be. Who I was going to be. Would he walk me down the aisle one day? Would he even meet the person I’d want to spend my life with? Would he become a grandfather?
Or would Parkinson’s take all that away from our family?
But then I realized this disease didn’t break us. It made us. It made us fight — together — to stay together. To cure him and everyone else from his disease.
And yet I worry that it’s not enough.
This is one event. One fundraiser.
What if it fails? What if no one cares? What if I can’t make people see that we can change the world?
So I hope in earnest that the two minutes of research I can raise by walking or running, or the few $100 I donate can help toward that goal. Toward a cure.
And I ask you to help this be enough — or just be something.
What we do matters. Even if it’s $5 here and there.
We want to change the world, and we can.