Dear Family and Friends,
Cancer, the most dreaded word in the dictionary, cast a shadow over my family. As a child, I avoided uttering its name, referring to it as the “big C.” But the mere mention of it could bring the dreaded diagnosis to someone we loved.
The landscape of our lives changed drastically when cancer struck our family. It was a devastating blow, leaving an indelible mark on our lives.
Personally, I’ve been grappling with the devastating impact of this “BiG C” for nine long years. It’s a word I can now say with a heavy heart: Cancer. Amie Beth Shapiro White, my beloved daughter, passed away on February 11th, 2016, in my arms. Her pain was finally at peace, but for the rest of us, the grief was just beginning. She had that radiant smile on her face, a testament to her inner peace. It was at 3:30 p.m. that she took her last breath.
On the same awful day Amie passed away, just 2 hours later Lenny, my husband, received a call from his oncologist informing him of the grim diagnosis of stage 4 lymphoma. The nightmare had begun anew. We were forced to return to Dana Farber for the eleventh consecutive year, enduring weekly chemotherapy sessions. Lenny passed away in my arms on October 19th, 2018, at 6:18 a.m. We would often wish each other a happy anniversary twice a day, as the clock struck 6:18. Our wedding date was June 18th, 1967, a date that held immense significance for both of us. We had been married for over 51 years, sharing a love that transcended necessity. Lenny and I were inseparable, finishing each other’s sentences and sharing a deep connection that went beyond words. We were often seen hand in hand, strolling Eli, our beloved standard poodle, along Main Street in Falmouth.
Amie and I were inseparable. We traveled, laughed, and simply enjoyed each other’s company. Our “happy place” in Falmouth was always filled with joy during the summer. Lenny and I cherished every moment we spent there. I no longer have that look she always gave me, and I can’t hug her anymore. Her sons are now grown men. There are so many things Alex and JJ would love to share with their mom, but she’s no longer with us. Despite her small stature, she had a profound presence. My large family is now quite small. Michael and I have lost two of the most significant people in our lives. We don’t smile or laugh as much as we used to. My happy place remains the same, but it’s now filled with loneliness. I can still close my eyes tightly (with each passing year, it becomes harder) and feel the hugs or see their smiles.
Life can certainly be tough sometimes!
Cancer is one of those devastating diseases that unfortunately affects everyone’s families or close friends. It takes away your body, your mind, and then your life.
Yes, I’ve had terrible losses, but I know that Lenny and Amie would want me to keep fighting this terrible disease.
Once again, I’ll be a virtual rider this year. I can’t go a year without hoping that my donations for the PMC will help others. Our only hope is research. With so many cuts happening in every aspect of our society this year, Dana-Farber needs our support.
Please give as much as you can comfortably give to help Dr. Anderson’s research eliminate cancer entirely.
The PMC DONATES 100% OF EVERY RIDER-RAISED DOLLAR TO DANA-FARBER CANCER INSTITUTE. Founded in 1980, the Pan-Mass Challenge (PMC) is the annual bike-a-thon that raises more money for charity than any other single event in the country. This success is a testament to the dedication and passion of many people who ride for and care about a cure. And because every penny counts, 100% of your donation goes directly to DFCI.
Thank you for taking the time to read this letter and supporting us this year.
Love,
Tobie,
My ID number is TS0304.
To donate for Amie and Lenny, please click here: (http://profile.pmc.org/TS0304). Alternatively, you can send a check,77 4th Avenue
Needham, MA 02494 If you choose to send a check, please include (http://profile.pmc.org/TS0304) in the Memo section.
I truly appreciate your support.
