Tonight I put Gavin to bed.  99% of the time, that is my husband’s job.  He gets home later from work so it his alone time with Gavin, but tonight he just didn’t get home in time.  Gavin always thinks it’s an open invitation to party if I’m putting him to bed and he just can’t control himself from tossing and turning and TALKING the whole time… You see, we lay with Gavin every night until he falls asleep.  I know, he is almost six years old, but the habit started when Ty was on hospice care and Gavin just upgraded out of a crib and into a big boy bed.  He was constantly getting up and coming into our room where Ty was sleeping and in pain, so we started lying with Gavin until he fell asleep soundly for the night.  After losing Ty, Gavin took his place in our bed and we don’t mind one bit (except for when his elbow is in my face while Lou and I cling to each side of the bed to accommodate his sprawling position).  We found ourselves in a routine that ...

I started writing this post last Wednesday... It’s been quiet here at the Campbell house.  We just keep on keeping on.  Life has fallen into a very busy routine and of course part of that routine will always include missing Ty.  Thankfully, "our new normal" (or so they call it) has been pretty normal lately.  After some serious rough spots around the holidays, things have fallen into place and we are doing well.  On Wednesdays, I work at the TLC Foundation all day until I have to leave to get Gavin off the bus.  It is the only day we don’t have anything to do after school so I like to cook a nice dinner and plan for a movie.   Tonight I went with some of my all-time favorites – fried chicken cutlets with sautéed bacon brussel sprouts, followed by The  Goonies .  We picked up the movie at the library, which is something I love to do with Gavin.  Of course we have Netflix and it’s easier to point the remote, but I still e...

Last Friday night, the Ty Louis Campbell Foundation was selected to be a beneficiary of the ERJADT light display in LaGrange, NY.  ERJADT stands for the initials of Tim and Grace Gay’s three children, because their passion for bringing Christmas joy to the community was ignited after their first child was born – and it has grown into something truly incredible over the years.  And by incredible, I mean record-breaking!!  The Gay family home holds the Guinness Book of World Records for the most lights displayed on a residential property.  That’s right (as I told Gavin 100 times while driving through it), they have more Christmas lights than anyone else in the entire world! And believe me, it is something to see.  I couldn’t hold back the tears every time I drove through (which was several times) because I just know how much Ty would have loved every second of it.  In one night, cars driving through were presented with a good old fashion bucket and our best ...

My eyes are filled with happy, sad and excited tears.  This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.  Thank you, PBS #cancerfilms, for seeing the beauty in the Muddy Puddles Project, and explaining it in the most perfectly simple way I could have ever imagined.  Thank you for making sure Ty was remembered, that his incredible perspective is being shared so widely, and that all children with cancer - all everyone with cancer - are being honored in your work.  Click below and watch the video in full screen.  I bet you can't keep a dry eye, either :) http://cancerfilms.org/blog/muddy-puddles-of-joy/ “Everybody says to me, ‘I can’t imagine, I don’t know how you could stay so strong.’ The truth is, when you’re faced with a child with cancer, you don’t have a choice.” Ty Campbell was two and half years old when he was diagnosed with cancer. The diagnosis was a complete shock to his mother and upended the life of a healthy, athletic young boy. In the ...

Now that Black Friday, Small Business Saturday and Cyber Monday have come and gone, we thought it would be appropriate to reach out to friends of the Ty Louis Campbell Foundation with our annual appeal for donations on the day that is now dubbed, Giving Tuesday. Giving Tuesday is a reminder to make a charitable contribution at the start of the holiday giving season.  Thank you for continuing to support childhood cancer research by donating to the TLC Foundation in memory of Ty and in honor of all children fighting cancer. We set up a fundraising page specifically for Giving Tuesday with a year-end goal of $10,000.  Last year we far surpassed our goal of $5,000If everyone on this distribution packed a lunch or skipped the Starbucks and instead made a donation, we would reach that goal in no time!  We will be giving out prizes to random donors throughout the day including t-shirts and PRET*TY bracelets! www.razoo.com/story/givingtuesdaytlc All d...

Relationships often become casualties of crisis.  Even the strongest of couples, when faced with life-changing crisis, can find themselves forced apart due to a range of reactions, different levels of coping, or conflicting outlets of grief.  I first saw this when my best friend broke off her engagement following a serious accident that had a tremendous impact on her family.  Her fiancé simply couldn’t relate.  He sank deeply inward to give her space, instead of grabbing hold tight and trying to lift her up out of the dark hole.  I didn’t understand it then, but I can entirely relate now.  Relationships can be blindsided by life.  I have seen too many relationship casualties of childhood cancer and child loss, and I am so incredibly grateful that mine is not one of them. I was 27 years old when I met Lou (or as he likes to say, when I picked him up at a bar).  He was bartending at Bliss Bar in Manhattan, and I was stopping in after work to visit...

It's a tough month.  It's as simple as that.  I thought I would be okay, because in general I've been getting by pretty well, but I was wrong.  Lou was wrong, too.  I am borrowing this from my friend Andrea (Riley's proud mama), because it couldn't be a more appropriate depiction of how we have been feeling for the past 4 weeks. But despite these feelings, we prefer to tell everyone, "I'm fine."  Because it's easier.  For all of us. How fitting. Lou just walked past me as I was typing and saw the graphic posted above.  He joked, "You're not fine... You're crazy."  I told him to take another look at what it reads.  He leaned in closer for a double take and he laughed out loud at the perfect irony. Colleen and I always shared our awesomeness - both of us having birthdays in October and simply adoring the fact that we are Libras.  Because - as all Libra's know well - being a Libra is simply the best.  When Ty was born j...

It's okay to cry.  I know this to be true.  But, I can't live by that rule day-in and day-out because crying is crippling.  This week, however, is an exception.  Tomorrow will be 2 years since Ty died in our arms.  I don't want to ever forget a single thing about him, or about that day.  Not even for a second. Yet, I can't bear to remember, either.  It's a twisted little truth about life without him.  To think of him is to inflict pain upon myself - and I wish it wasn't so.  I wish it was as beautiful and positive as I most often portray it to be.  I wish every memory brought me laughter instead of tears, but i'm not there yet and doubt I ever will be. Every other day of the year, I am usually doing well. I put one foot in front of the other, because I push the painful thoughts out of my head.  When my memories float in, I allow them to stay until I feel the tears in my eyes.  Then I push them aside, like a fly on my nose. ...

I don't know what the weather was like the day Ty was born.  I was in the hospital since the day before and he finally arrived at 11PM that night.  But on the day we took him home, the weather was perfect.  One of those magical days in early October where the sun warms you just enough to take off your sweatshirt and soak it all in under the changing leaves.  That was the day our life changed forever, and I couldn't wait to live it. My birthday was on Wednesday, it was perfectly rainy and gloomy.  It suited my mood.  Today is Ty's birthday.  He would be seven years old.  Today is also pouring rain.  I've been checking the weather all week and there are raindrops from start to finish today.  It's perfect.  A muddy puddle kind of day just for Ty. Please remember Ty today, and let your kids do whatever they want (well, almost).  It's Saturday. Let them make a mess in muddy puddles,  Bake cookies.  Use fingerpaint. ...

Living in a beachfront community, there is a common phrase, "I've got sand in my shoes."  It's more than a literal reference to the actual sand that is in your shoes more often than not.  It is representative of the beach being part of you - going with you wherever you go. Our family has Long Beach sand in our shoes, and we always will.  No matter where life takes us. When Ty was home on hospice care, some great friends from Long Beach were coming up for a visit and Lou asked them to bring a bottle of water from the ocean, and a jar of sand from the beach.  He kept it in his closet.  I didn't know why. When we laid Ty in his casket, he was dressed in a white three-piece suit, and a blue handkerchief - his hair was perfect, his feet were bare.  Then Lou pulled out the box from his closet.  He poured the sand over Ty's bare feet, followed by the ocean water.  We believed he was free to go back to the beach, and we found peace knowing he was go...

Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay. - Robert Frost I don't think there could be a better color to represent childhood cancer.  Children, in all of their beauty, purity and innocence, are truly golden.  When a poor child is diagnosed with cancer, he or she is immediately robbed of this, while forced to face pain, fear and realities that grown men and women can barely even cope with. When Gavin bumps his head badly, or skins his knee, or gets a shot at the doctor's office - I coddle him and I try to comfort him with every remedy possible.  Yet, in my mind I know what real pain looks like to a five year old.  I think to myself "sweet little man, you have no idea, thank God"  And for that, I am grateful.  He is still gold and I want him to hold onto that for as long as he possibly can....