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Showing posts from August, 2017

Stop all this hate?

As I was browsing social media the other day, I saw the most baffling post -- so much so that I'm still perplexed by it. A hometown acquaintance posted something crass enough that I don't actually feel comfortable repeating it because, frankly, the opinion doesn't deserve any weight. However, I'll share a few of the contradictory hashtags: #growup #getoveryourself #stopallthishate.
The post in itself was offensive, hands-down. If you don't believe me, I'll just tip you off that it included the terms "butt hurt" and "vagasil" (spelled incorrectly). Although I didn't agree with the opinion or the means of conveying it, I didn't do a double-take until I got to the hashtag #stopallthishate. After reading one of the more hateful posts I'd seen in quite some time, the irony of the hashtag was not lost on me. 
I didn't take the bait and respond to the post, although maybe I should have. Some posts seem clearly intended for shock va…

When the fight ends

After a 22-year battle with cystic fibrosis, my friend Darcey passed away on Wednesday, August 3. I first met her when I was an intern at the Make-A-Wish Foundation in 2006. I was preparing some wish stories to use in marketing pieces, and I came across a girl with cystic fibrosis who had recently been granted a wish. In the coming weeks, she attended a Make-A-Wish event, and I had the pleasure of meeting her face-to-face. Darcey was 13 years old when we met, which tends to be a particularly rebellious time.

After we met, I tried to take her under my wing, checking in on her and even bringing her surprises in the hospital. Attending CF camp as a child, I had the luxury of meeting other CFers that were my age, but I hadn't gotten many opportunities to meet people in different age groups.  As an adolescent, having CF can be especially isolating, so I wanted to be a friend -- and even a role model -- to Darcey. CF or no CF, 13 isn't an easy age. 
I remember I had a necklace that …