Go Gold
Just over a year ago, a lovely lady named Taylor Swift released a song, "Ronan", on the Stand Up To Cancer marathon. As I discussed in my last post, music has a way of speaking to people that normal words don't. Before I go any further, take a second to listen to the song.
The heart-wrenching lyrics, along with a picture of a beautiful blue-eyed boy, have echoed continually through my mind for the past year. They've brought so many questions into my mind: "Why is there not more funding?" "What can I do to change this?" "Why am I sitting on my butt when kids are dying every single day?"
And even though it's been a year, I still haven't found definitive answers. I do, however, know one thing. I can't turn my head and ignore this. It's real, it's happening every day, and it is not okay.
Ronan had these beautiful, sparkling, blue eyes and blonde hair. A larger than life personality. He was an old soul. He could have. and would have, changed this world. He doesn't have that opportunity now, though. So since he can't change the world, I, along with thousands of others, are going to do it for him and with him. How is it possible to feel this connected to someone I've never met? I feel Ronan and see Ronan around me all the time. After completing my red and gold (for childhood cancer) tutu for the Taylor Swift concert on Thursday, a thunderstorm came out of nowhere, causing our power to go out, while the sun kept shining. Maya, Ronan's mom, often talks in her blog about how storms come up at the most random times when she's doing things related to Ronan. I just know in my heart that it's him saying thank you.
Because of Ronan, I've also discovered what I'm supposed to do in life. I have a passion for music. Hopefully, you've figured that out by now. I'm not the best at science or math, so that pretty much means I can't go into pediatric oncology. Does that mean I'm not going to do something to change this world? Heck no. I've decided to be a music therapist and work at a children's hospital. The best way I know to bring joy to people's lives is music. If I can provide a temporary escape for these kids, of course, I'm going to do it. Sure, it may not be finding a cure. But I sure am going to keep fighting for one. I have my big senior project coming up next year, so of course, I'm going to do a fundraiser for the Ronan Thompson Foundation. I'll be fighting for this until the day I day or they find a cure, whichever comes first.
It's crazy to think that without the power of music, I may never have heard about Ronan. The scary thing is, Ronan isn't the only one. Talia Castellano, a girl whose story I followed for 2 years, passed away this summer. There's Brooke Hester, who is fighting every day to win the battle against cancer. That's only 3 of hundreds of thousands who are fighting constantly. How can we just ignore this?
I couldn't let September, Childhood Cancer Awareness Month, pass by without a blog to tell this story. We can't turn our backs on these kids who can't fight for themselves. We have to fight for them. I encourage you to get involved. Share their stories. Share the story of how they changed you. This could be your sister or brother, your cousin, your best friend. A 12-year-old girl from my town lost her 4 month battle with cancer this year. My cousin's 6-year-old friend died of cancer last year. It's not rare anymore. 7 kids get diagnosed each day and that's only in the USA.
Please, I'm begging you, join me in this fight.
Fearlessly,
Sarah
Ronan Thompson: died before his 4th birthday from Neuroblastoma.
