For those following my story closely, you may recall that my sister Deana has three adorable children, Andrew (12), Clare (8), and Gregory (2).    I love these children as if they were my own, as I do not have any of my own…by choice.

I confess I have never wanted children and really cannot pinpoint the initial time and reason I came to this conclusion.  I often say that it is because my mother was (and remains) one of the most self-sacrificing parents imaginable and I could never see myself being successful in that role.

It may also be a function of being the oldest, as I was always encouraged to look after my sisters, take care of my sisters, include my sisters – perhaps I had my fill of nurturing from that experience.

However, I always looked forward to being an aunt.  We are blessed with some wonderful aunts, one of which, Aunt Eileen, has never married and has had a life filled with career success and world travel, which looked very attractive to a young girl filled with wanderlust.

Deana made me an aunt.  The call on Thanksgiving Day 1998 announcing that there’d be another May birthday in our family sent me into a buying spree that has lasted to the present.  I love spoiling my nephews and my nieces.  They bring me great joy.

Sweet Clare came to spend 10 days with me in July.  Prior to Deana’s diagnosis, my mother and I had some plans to travel with Clare and my sister Darrie’s daughter, Kate (10).  However, Mom has been staying with Deana to look after Gregory since our multiple myeloma challenge began, and thus, our plans to travel with my nieces have been delayed.

Not to be daunted, I worked some magic and brought Clare back to Georgia on July 11.  We were upgraded to business class on our flight, so our adventure, which we have termed “Camp Aunt Debbie,” was off to a terrific start.

On the plane, she told me that she wanted to get a shirt like the one I have, “I wear burgundy for my sister.”  Thanks to iPad and in-flight wireless, we pulled up the website and picked out shirts for her and her brother and her cousin as well.

The next day, we worked on some stationery for her, similar to some that I have made.  She has a set of return address labels with a burgundy ribbon on them, and personalized note cards, printed in burgundy, featuring “for my Mom…support multiple myeloma awareness” on the bottom.  She’s been quite busy with her correspondence.

On one of her first days with me, we were walking my dogs and talking.  Something in our conversation caused her to tell me that sometimes her mother yells and she understands that it is probably because her mother is sick.

With no formal parental training, these moments take me by surprise.  I was very quick to reinforce that her mother loves her very much, and that yes, her mother’s illness can certainly affect her moods.  Clare is pretty astute, so I think that she understands at some 8-year-old level that this is the disease and the medicine talking and that she is a loved and treasured child.

Several days later, we were eating lunch at Navy Pier in Chicago (yes, Camp Aunt Debbie features field trips).  Clare looked over at me and, out of the blue, said, “I’m very angry that my mother has this disease.”

Again, I am not accustomed to responding to this sort of remark, but figured in this case, honesty is the best policy.  So, I looked at her and said, “I am very angry too.  And it is okay to be angry.  But, don’t let yourself be angry too long because anger is not a productive emotion. Your mom needs us to be as positive as we can be. So, be angry for a few minutes, and then think about what things you can do to be helpful in our fight against this disease.”  I then followed with some suggestions, and, as is typical of 8-year olds, we were shortly on our way to the next adventure.

A few days later, my father-in-law’s wife, who accompanied us on the trip to help with Clare when I had work to do, said that Clare had recounted this conversation with her.  Thankfully, Tisa is a teacher (and a parent) and has more experience answering off-the-cuff.  She told me she reinforced everything I had discussed with Clare.

We both agreed it is just not in the natural order of things to have these discussions with such a young child.  I feel as if Clare has lost her innocence too soon.  My heart breaks that at such a young age she has to face her mother’s mortality.

Many people assure me that children are resilient.  I know they are.  But, I also know that I can easily recall things that happened at eight, good and bad, and some of these things have shaped who I am today, for the better and worse.  I never expected that these would be the conversations I’d be having with Clare at this point in her life.  It is yet another time I am sad, frustrated, and yes, even angry, that I cannot fix this.

While we waited for our flight out of Milwaukee back to Pittsburgh, the very last leg of Camp Aunt Debbie, she was holding my hand as we walked down the terminal hallway and said to me, “It really stinks that my mom is sick, but it has been awesome to see you more and to see Grandma D. more.”

I responded, “Clare, I had been thinking the very same thing about a week ago.  It is awful that your mother is sick, but I am enjoying spending more time with you.  I wish that it didn’t take your mother getting sick to make this happen.”

And all I could think was….out of the mouths of babes.

On a slightly different topic, I also wanted to provide you with an update on my fund raising efforts.  About a week ago, I finally got around to activating my fund raising page for the Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation (MMRF) Power Team – Chicago Marathon.  It has been humbling to reach 90 percent of my $2,500 goal in less than a week.

After running nine miles in the Georgia heat and humidity this weekend, I am appreciative of all support, including good thoughts, as I take on my first marathon.