When Johnny Cash sings those palpable words, so somber and sad, he describes my day on Friday quite perfectly.  I didn’t know I was doing it.  I didn’t realize my trip into the city would turn into a haunting day of torture.  I thought I was strong enough.  I was even looking forward to it; longing for some time in the neighborhood that we used to call our home away from home.  There is a piece of me that still lives there, and I miss it.  When Gavin turned six in April, his pediatrician discovered a heart murmur during his annual physical.  She assured me it was likely nothing to worry about and referred me to a local cardiologist.  After knowing what we know, Lou and I decided to take him to a specialist at NYP-Weill Cornell, instead.  My best friend’s niece, Savannah, was feeling tired and sluggish – she had a tumor growing around her heart.  Ty had trouble sleeping, he had a tumor growing at the base of his skull.  Maybe if the doctor’s discovered them sooner, our childr

Seven children are lost to cancer each day in the US.  More than 2,500 moms over the past year alone will be grieving their loss on this day, because their child is not there to make a card, or gift a handful of flowers picked from the garden (or dandelions picked from the lawn).  It's a hard, hard day.  Almost impossible. Thanks to our incredible supporters, we will be able to send out 200 more lockets to bereaved moms of childhood cancer.  It is the most heartbreaking thing we do at the TLC Foundation, we have shed countless tears as we print photos of these beautiful children and place them in the lockets.  Our hearts break over and over again, but at the same time it is the most meaningful project to work on.  We pour love into each and every locket, and we cry happy tears each time a mom reaches out to say thank you.  It means so very much to us that we can give this gift of remembrance, and it is your generosity that has made this program a reality.   I have to give