Hazel.

Anna and I met when we were really young. About 7 in our first year at camp. I remember her vaguely from that time, but really it's because she remembered me first and we found pictures. We were about 12 when we met again. "Did you go to Girls Camp as a kid?" Her accent was unlike any I'd heard. Not quite The South but more southern than kids where I was from, and yet certainly not the most twang I knew of.

"Yeah"

"Did you stay in Trinity your first year?"

"Yeah"

"Thought so." More than her accent I remember her being forward and slightly abrupt. Yet friendly. And I wanted to be her friend.

"Well did you go to Girls Camp and did you stay in Trinity?" I asked knowing the answer but wanting to know more about this super fascinating girl.  And that, as they say, is history. We spent the entire week together. Living in the same cabin, choosing the same activities, and acting as each other's wing men at the ever important dances. The week drew to a close and my heart ached to say goodbye to another wonderful year at camp. (Isn't the weight that High Schoolers put on things daunting...goodness. Glad that's over. I digress...).  Anna, who lived about an hour away, and I exchanged phone numbers and addresses promising to keep in touch. I think I wrote her my first letter from the car. And we talked on the phone the next day.

Not too long after camp she invited me down for a weekend visit. My mother agreed so long as she could speak to Anna's parents. I'm sure I rolled my eyes that she was so ridiculously protective, but of course the mothers called and spent some time talking to each other discussing the logistics of getting me to their house. Mom replaced the received (you used to have to stand by the phone to talk into it) and said very calmly but very candidly.

"Does Anna's mother have MS?"

With this I am certain my eyes rolled out of my head. "Ugh Mother, you are so rude. She doesn't have MS". I was afraid this was leading to her telling me that I wasn't going to be allowed to go visit Anna. I knew Multiple Sclerosis. My parents had a few close friends living with the disease. Although to me it mostly meant wheel chairs.

"Hillie. You should ask Anna. I'm sure it will be fine, but I don't want you to be surprised. I can hear it in her voice. She sounds a lot like Nancy. Very sharp and clear thoughts but also a little slower. And you should be prepared for this."  Mom told me more about the disease, how it progresses and some experiences she had with supporting the disease as a friend.

Be clear, that conversation was not an after school special. It took probably 47 seconds before I grabbed the permission I needed, and ran upstairs to call Anna and squeal in delight that I would see her in a couple days.

"There's something you should know before you come down...My mom has MS and is in a wheel chair".

I hate when my mother is right. And in this specific example, I'm still kinda pissed she was. She explained a little bit about what that meant for her reality but assured me that her mother was still a mom.

And that's really that. Anna and I spent the next six years before college hip to hip. And so a large part of my adolescence was spent around a woman whose symptoms had progressed so greatly that, as a teen, my Anna was a primary caregiver to her mother. And can I tell you Anna was always so wonderful with her mother's care?!!!?!?! I mean, yes at times I am sure she was a grumpy teenager who didn't want to tend to her mother's request, but find one 15 year old girl who gladly does everything their parents tell her to.http://main.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR/LeadershipClass/OHGGeneralEvents?px=11877216&pg=personal&fr_id=21356 But she served and supported her mother with such strength and grace it was impossible not to notice and be impacted by her love and generosity. And interestingly, it was due the ease by which Anna loved and cared that it all seemed so normal for me. Like I knew 30 other teenagers who lived the same life.

And can I tell you what else was pretty normal? The way that Hazel would yell at us when we misbehaved. I mean sure her speech was a little slower but she should could remind us quickly who the mother was. Quickly.


So why the story, Gage? 

Well. I recently was selected to serve as a member of the area's MS Society Leadership Class and as a result I have been reflecting a lot about how Multiple Scelrosis impacted me. And it's impossible not to think about that time in my life I spent with my dear friend and her mother.

I have the opportunity to help spread the word about this disease and raise some money to help families living with an MS diagnosis. So before I ask you generous generous friends to open your hearts and wallets to help this cause, I offer some interesting points.

The Skinny:

MS is a chronic, often disabling disease that attacks the central nervous system. Symptoms can be mild, such as numbness in the limbs, or servere such as paralysis or loss of vision. The progress, severity, and specific symptoms of MS are unpredictable and vary from person to person.

The Hope:

MS has long been a diagnosis of elimination. However through progress in research that is not longer the case and they are making great advancements in medicine providing variety in treatment plans.

The Goal:

A cure! And in the mean time help support research, wellness, and community for those living with the disease.

Please visit MY PAGE and help us reach our goal! Or you can contact me directly, if you prefer.


And check out the website for more research and opportunities to help (There's a mudder in July I'll be harassing you about, btw).


Or just let me know if you are interested in learning more or helping the cause!

Until then, with MUCH love...and hope

xoxo,

gage~