Resilience: it’s exactly like a Twinkie… I think.

Years ago I asked my wife what the difference between kids with cancer and adults with cancer was. She was able to summarize the difference in a word: resilience. Almost all of the kids had it, but only some of the adults. I am not smart enough to know what that means, so I’ll just share the difference between me and Delaney.
Now I obviously don’t have cancer but I thought I had something a bazillion times worse. I was heartbroken. I spent days then weeks crying and sobbing. The pain was just too much to bare. After my wife begged me to look at my medical atrocity (I think her exact words were “quit whining and show me your finger you baby!”), I finally succumbed only because I knew it had to be tough on her to possibly be losing me. I couldn’t understand the professional medical diagnosis because it was some sort of latin term (sounded like itsafreakinhangnailujackass!). Maybe I just didn’t hear her because I was too busy asking if at my funeral I should play “Amazing Grace” or a more non-traditional song like some old school U2, “Won’t you be back tomorrow?” I don’t speak Latin, but I think if you look up resilience in the dictionary, you might just see my picture.
OR possibly the likes of little Delaney would be a better example of resilience. Delaney who when pulled from school to get a bunch of chemo injected into her and then is told that she can expect to be feeling very poorly, asks, “Can l go back to school now?” Or when asked about her hair loss and what wig she chose, throws a backwards ball cap on her bald head and just wants to go play.
I may not understand resilience, but I think heroes have it. Today we were fortunate enough to attend a Heroes for Heroes event. It was held at the Centennial Fire Department for kids fighting different forms of cancer and their families. They got to participate in a junior firefighter challenge, tour the station, and even take a ride on the fire truck.
Besides the kids, the firefighters were the obvious heroes. However, there were less obvious heroes like the Wachter family. They lost their little girl Melina to leukemia about eight years. I don’t think anybody in the world would blame them if they just wanted to hole up someplace with their three surviving children in silence. Instead, they are out their hosting events like today’s function through their ForeMelina foundation and bringing so much joy to so many others. They come along side families with children fighting cancer and help in any way they can. The parents, Desiree and Mike, were personally working the Love, Hope, Strength booth getting people added to the bone marrow list.
I think heroes come in all shapes and sizes: they might be bald little tomboys, wear police or firefighter uniforms, or even be an entire family who turned their tragic loss into a mission to give back. Unfortunately for me, they come in every shape but mine.
Here is a pic of my mini little hero having a blast today.