Founded by Andrew McMahon of Something Corporate, Jack’s Mannequin and Andrew McMahon and the Wilderness, Dear Jack is a non-profit whose mission is:
“The Dear Jack Foundation provides impactful programs benefiting adolescents and young adults (AYA) diagnosed with cancer and their families to improve their quality of life from treatment to survivorship.
Through programs and strategic partnerships, Dear Jack addresses the physical and emotional needs of AYA cancer patients, survivors and their families. One-on-one patient support and wellness programs allow the Dear Jack Foundation to empower patients, survivors and their caregivers in their healing and to provide assurance that they are not alone in their cancer journey.”
Why am I bringing them up? Well they have really shown me and my family tons of love these past few months. It all started with our trip to Universal Studios in Florida earlier this year. They provided us with special passes for the park that allowed us to skip to the front of the line. I’m not talking fast pass and skipping some of the line- the WHOLE line, it was amazing.
That alone would be enough however I was also accepted into their Lifelist program. The LifeList program provides experiences to young adult cancer patients and their loved ones. These experiences range from trips to laptops to tickets for events and more. They try to bring some happiness and joy to those affected by cancer and in our case they definitely succeeded.
Our experience? A trip to Colorado and Utah to see and experience nature- not just the flat flat lands of Illinois. It’s hard to describe how beautiful and amazing it all is. I love where I live and it has beauty in it too but the mountains and landscapes were perfect.
This trip came a few days after being discharged from the ER. I felt better but not 100%. Long story short- I should have been given steroids before the trip. However I was given them after the trip which made me feel like a new man but left me feeling sick for about half the trip. I’m still so happy I got to go on the trip I just wish I could have been more present and active. I had to take naps or stay back a few times and with incurable cancer that is progressing, you never know how many trips you have left.
The trip was still great though and it definitely leaves you in awe while making you realize how small you are compared to it all. While I felt small and inconsequential compared to towering snow capped mountains or the vast rocky terrains, the feelings I had all trip dwarfed it all.
Happiness- I saw the joy it brought my kids and me. It was beautiful and, for lack of a better term, really cool. Experiencing the views, the trip, everything for the first time with the kids was great and made me happy.
Sadness- I cried just about everyday we were there. How do you balance enjoying an experience so great, with the people most important to you, all while knowing your time is slipping away? I don’t know that there is a right answer other than just trying. And I guess that applies to everyday- how do you live, work and function everyday knowing your time is dwindling? You just try each day. Will each day be a runaway success? No, but you have to try.
Appreciation- The photo above might appear to be a simple one, two kids discovering fun house mirrors- having a good time. There’s more to it though. This was more than halfway through the trip- a busy trip where at times we all were exhausted and stressed. This is two kids who don’t always get along perfectly (normal sibling stuff). We were atop a mountain amusement park- which is apparently a common thing- and at this point taking a break for a few minutes. The kids ran to these mirrors and I could see, and hear from a distance the laughter and fun they were having. I started taking more pictures before putting my phone away and observing. The laughter was pure and genuine, hearty and deep. I was laughing too, off to the side. I was crying too. These tears were different though. Yes I was sad but I also was in awe or almost like an out of body experience. At times as parents we can forget that they are little humans, not fully functioning adults. Life and responsibilities don’t stop and the grind of it stresses you out, at times not letting kids be kids. Not in this photo though. They were pure kids- happy and carefree. No troubles or stresses or worries. I couldn’t help but cry. I was sad for all I will eventually miss with them but I was also happy. The two most important people to me could lean on each other if needed- for support, laughs, good times and hopefully the hard times to come. It’s a lot to ask anyone to deal with this but two kids- it’s impossible. I’ll never be okay with losing them and them losing me, but if they have each other, and are capable of real and honest vulnerability with one another then I know those two smart and caring children will make it through somehow (with lots of support as well from an amazing mom and family).
Even though I was not at 100% for some of the trip and it was at times sad to know that trips like these won’t come often- if ever again- I wouldn’t change a thing (except maybe getting the steroids before the trip). It was amazing.
If that wasn’t enough, the other day I got a package in the mail from Dear Jack. It contained over 100 handwritten and personalized letters to me.
I sat down and read every single card and letter that was given to me from all over the country. To say it meant a lot would be an understatement. These now sit next to my desk, waiting to be read again when needed.
Thank you Dear Jack, and thank you for reading.
-Joe
So glad to hear of these special and beautiful moments for your family. You all deserve every smile and all of the happiness. 💛
Hi Joe. I landed on your blog from the QR code on Dear Jack’s site. I see the card I made on your table and it brought tears to my eyes. I’ve been making cards for Dear Jack’s participants for 2+ years, but tonight was the first time I’ve seen the full package from all of their volunteers. Thank you so much for sharing, and also for sharing your journey. You are a gifted writer. I’m so incredibly sorry to read that your cancer is incurable. I will continue to keep you and your family in my thoughts. 💕