I recently finished reading your blog on Huffington Post. I have to admit, after I read the first entry, I stopped. I didnt think I could read on, probably because I have a 10 month old daughter and it was so heartbreaking to even imagine what you and your familty endured. It stuck with me though, and I thought, if this woman can endure and live to write about it, than I can read it. So, a few days later, I returned to your story and read it, and re-read it. I am so glad that I did. Your story broke my heart, yet I learned so much. I loved learning about your little girl Donna. Her love of dinasours, her black leotard and tutu, her mac and cheese cravings, and her disdain for Santa, so funny! My favorite picture of her is the one of her in a sundress with a wide brimmed hat, and she is walking with what looks like a stick in her hand. You can see the determination she had in that picture. I love it. You and your husband love her to pieces, and you stuck by her side and held on to her so tight when she needed you, I think that's one of the reasons she got back to living asap after every treatement, she loved you both so much and didn't want to miss a minute of time with you. The way you showed your courage and hope by continuing on with as normal of a life as possible for your family is awesome. The way you describe your grief so eloquently brings tears just thinking about it, but it's also so important for people to understand up close what people go through, especially our little ones, when cancer comes to town. Your story is important, it needs to be told, and parents need to be aware that this shit is real. You and your husband have done great things in your daughter's memory and I hope that these things bring you some form of peace. I have not been this close to cancer personally, but it shouldn't take knowing someone close to you to do something. I will, as a parent, always keep your story of Donna in my heart. On October 19th, I will light a candle in her memory. I will wish for your broken heart to heal a little bit, and I will do something to help fight the beast. I hope that I have successfully conveyed the deep empathy I feel for you and your family. I look forward to reading your updates and wish the best for you and your family.
Peace & Love,
The Davey Family