The Writing Mamas Daily Blog
Each day on the Writing Mamas Daily Blog, a different member will write about mothering.If you're a mom then you've said these words, you've made these observations and you've lived these situations - 24/7.
And for that, you are a goddess.
Monday, November 19, 2007
No Apologies
I didn’t want to do it. I had plenty of excuses. We’re in the midst of a kitchen remodel. The baby won’t take a bottle. I was leaving on a trip the next day. We wanted to take the kids to the Goblin Jamboree. But, most of all, I hate asking for money.
If I was going to participate in the Juvenile Diabetes Walk, I would need to ask for donations. I had to. My sister lived with Type I diabetes for over twenty years. Now she’s gone. This was an opportunity to do something productive in Nina’s honor.
So, I signed up. That took three minutes online. Then it was time to e-mail out the dreaded donation letter. I reminded myself that the money goes towards finding a cure for the disease that had forced Nina to stick her finger and give herself injections multiple times each day, almost killed her when she ran out of insulin in the Amazon and had been an unwelcome consideration that she could never escape – not even for an afternoon.
But, asking for money was still hard. I e-mailed new friends, old friends, Nina’s friends, family friends… basically anyone with an e-mail address. I reassured myself that I never mind being asked for donations for a charity walk. My husband reminded me that the money was for charity. It wasn’t like we were asking friends to fund our kitchen remodel. Still, I felt embarrassed and apologetic.
Until, I thought about Nina.
Even as a kid, Nina never hid her disease. She didn’t retreat to a restroom to give herself injections. She would just pull up her shirt and plunge in the syringe in an airport, classroom or restaurant ignoring the stares. One of her graduate school friends recalls the first moment he met Nina. She sat down next to him in class, pulled out her insulin supplies and gave herself a shot. When she caught him gaping, she just smiled and asked “What? Do you think that’s kinky?”
Nina never made apologies for her illness and she didn’t let it stop her from traveling to third-world countries, backpacking in remote locations, playing on a men’s soccer team, or doing anything else she desired. The only thing that she couldn’t do was make her Diabetes disappear. Even though she tried to make Diabetes seem “cool,” as her big sister, I know that she wished for a cure over every set of birthday candles.
In the end, I received over $1,000 in donations for the Juvenile Diabetes Foundation along with encouragement and support from people I barely knew. I also learned something from Nina. Don’t make apologies for the way things are. Just live it.
By Maya Creedman
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If I was going to participate in the Juvenile Diabetes Walk, I would need to ask for donations. I had to. My sister lived with Type I diabetes for over twenty years. Now she’s gone. This was an opportunity to do something productive in Nina’s honor.
So, I signed up. That took three minutes online. Then it was time to e-mail out the dreaded donation letter. I reminded myself that the money goes towards finding a cure for the disease that had forced Nina to stick her finger and give herself injections multiple times each day, almost killed her when she ran out of insulin in the Amazon and had been an unwelcome consideration that she could never escape – not even for an afternoon.
But, asking for money was still hard. I e-mailed new friends, old friends, Nina’s friends, family friends… basically anyone with an e-mail address. I reassured myself that I never mind being asked for donations for a charity walk. My husband reminded me that the money was for charity. It wasn’t like we were asking friends to fund our kitchen remodel. Still, I felt embarrassed and apologetic.
Until, I thought about Nina.
Even as a kid, Nina never hid her disease. She didn’t retreat to a restroom to give herself injections. She would just pull up her shirt and plunge in the syringe in an airport, classroom or restaurant ignoring the stares. One of her graduate school friends recalls the first moment he met Nina. She sat down next to him in class, pulled out her insulin supplies and gave herself a shot. When she caught him gaping, she just smiled and asked “What? Do you think that’s kinky?”
Nina never made apologies for her illness and she didn’t let it stop her from traveling to third-world countries, backpacking in remote locations, playing on a men’s soccer team, or doing anything else she desired. The only thing that she couldn’t do was make her Diabetes disappear. Even though she tried to make Diabetes seem “cool,” as her big sister, I know that she wished for a cure over every set of birthday candles.
In the end, I received over $1,000 in donations for the Juvenile Diabetes Foundation along with encouragement and support from people I barely knew. I also learned something from Nina. Don’t make apologies for the way things are. Just live it.
By Maya Creedman
Labels: Maya Creedman
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