Pity, Realization, Motivation, Movement.

When Aria was born in 2009, my best friend's 5-year-old nephew died of leukemia.

I followed the blog, I donated a bit to whichever fund the parents selected, I felt extremely sorry for them, and I felt lucky to have healthy babies.

My same friend's brother died of brain cancer, too. So did her childhood friend. She's had more than enough of this shit for several lifetimes.

Yet, except for being secretly terrified of cancer, I didn't go out of my way to do much about it. I heard "cure" and "cancer" and thought it improbable. There were more practical, hopeful causes to which I could donate.

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Several weeks ago, Aria was diagnosed with leukemia. It's the more "curable" form of childhood cancer. It's only curable because science has made it so.

Maybe cancer hasn't touched you directly, but if you reach out further, look one more degree out, you'll  see it lurking, waiting to be noticed.

I am able to perceive Aria's cancer  as something new for us to work around (or through), and not as a death sentence. That's only possible because of so many who came before me who didn't think a cure improbable. They put their time, money, and effort behind a cure.

I hadn't even thought about how my aunt survived stage 3 cancer  a decade ago. Only one way that happened: Money -> Research -> Cure.

Now it's my turn. I've never fundraised for anything. A few girl scout cookies here or a carthwheel-a-thon there, but never any real effort.

But in the coming months (like, the next 60 to 600 of them), prepare to be entertained frequently with my creative energy, social extravaganzas, and sparkling wit in exchange for donations to Children's Cancer Research Fund. I'm trying to decide how much to raise...but $100,000 sounds about right.

You'll be invited to block parties, beer tastings, and no-chip-manicure sessions. You'll be compelled to buy your Christmas Cards from the assortment designed by my 1st grader. Anything you might have spent money on anyway, you'll spend money on in a much more meaningful way.

You'll love having so much fun for such a great cause. If you believe in heaven, I'll be the one to put you one step closer. If you just want to feel awesome, consider it done.

Stay tuned. Keep your schedule open. Be a part of something big, important, fulfilling, and bone-chilling.

To get the fundraising ball rolling, my uncle is running 26.2 miles in Wisconsin in honor of my little Aria Luna.

Click that link. Try a small monthly donation...it will feel like magic when you see your bank statement. Save your receipt to get that tax write-off.

Make it worth the while of every little kid whose mom was just told their baby has cancer, and gosh, sorry, but it's not the kind we've figured out how to fix yet.

Yet.