Dear friends, family and loved ones, whichever category you feel you may fall into, I feel compelled to write you during these wee hours of the morning for an important cause, one which I had pondered but only recently truly embraced as a worthy and critical cause to our existence. There are those of us who walk this earth happily, free of infection, free of affliction, free of hunger, despair and cause for worry. Those of us who enjoy such happiness may often take for granted the extent to which we go about our daily lives without taking pause to consider our own mortality, our own vulnerability and our own frailty. For in truth, we human beings are as frail as the common dandelion, standing amidst the strongest of winds awaiting our own demise. Despite generations upon generations of evolution, we have not yet achieved immunity from the afflictions upon which we have bestowed names of infamy and immortal disdain. AIDS, cancer and the like take loved ones from us each year by incomprehensible numbers. I have had the pleasant fortune, if these words are fitting, of losing only a handful of loved ones to old age at this point in my life, but I have indeed known the unwelcome discomfort of death and despair – this through the loss of acquaintances, friends and loved ones. It is an inevitable feeling, that of losing a friend or loved one to affliction, accident or simply old age, but each instance is as insufferable as the last. To be truthful, it wasn’t until I had lost a family pet – yes, a pet – that I truly grasped the meaning of loss and the pain of death, though I had previously lost loved ones. But now the gravity and brevity of death are within my comprehension, and I am well versed on the suffering and pain that accompanies losing a dear friend. So you can anticipate the tightness I experienced in my chest when one of my dearest friends, Laura Weems Ybarra, spoke those frightening words to me over the phone: “I have cancer.” It came as a complete shock in the midst of a happy occasion we were celebrating for a mutual friend, but this should not be surprise to anyone – our darkest moments descend upon us without much warning, yet they require of us our full attention. I had lost a high school friend to non-Hodgkins lymphoma previously, and it was one of the saddest moments of my life. To hear the words coming through the phone from one of my BEST friends…I don’t believe I truly grasped the gravity of the situation until tonight. One cannot fully appreciate the pain and suffering that accompanies a cancer patient unless they undergo the chemotherapy, the diagnostic sessions, the harvesting of future embryos…we just cannot understand unless we have to endure such pain ourselves. Until tonight. I boarded a Metro train tonight, and came across a pamphlet left behind by a previous rider for the Cancer Treatment Centers of America. I have had Laura’s situation on my mind since she broke the news to me, and I knew I had wanted to do something on her behalf for quite a while, but this was a sign that it was time to take action instead of sitting idly by and contemplating how best to help. Some of Laura’s friends have pledged to run marathons on her behalf; some have moved in with her in Austin, Texas, to care for her during her time of need. Unfortunately I cannot do any of these things, but I know in my heart there is something I can do to make a difference in Laura’s name and in the name of all cancer patients. I may not be the fastest runner or the strongest lifter, but I will gladly sacrifice a bit of my own dignity in the name of a greater cause. That’s why, in solidarity with my dear friend as she endures chemotherapy, I pledge to shave my head as part of a donation pledge to St. Baldrick’s, a cancer awareness organization that strives to eradicate all cancer among children. If I am successful in raising a mere $1,500 for research to help eradicate cancer among our children, and adults, I will happily shave my head, and if I am lucky enough to have friends generous enough to contribute $3,000 to the cause, I will go completely bald. Our friends enduring chemotherapy do not have the luxury of a choice whether or not to keep their hair, but I will gladly sacrifice mine in their name. For as long as Laura is undergoing chemotherapy treatments, I will keep my head shaved if we achieve our goal. Situations permitting, I will happily allow the largest donor the opportunity to shave my head themselves, and to keep my end of the bargain I will shave my head on a live stream online. I am blessed with an impressive amount of friends, and each of you I hold dear in my heart. If each one of my Facebook friends donates a mere $2 to the cause, I will easily exceed my $3,000 goal. If each donates $5, we will exceed $8,000 in a strong stance against cancer and a substantial display of generosity. Expecting each Facebook friend to donate is quite ambitious indeed, but even if 600 of you sacrifice $5 – the equivalent of one beer, one movie rental or one fast food meal – ONE TIME in the name of cancer research, we will achieve this goal. Remember, we may feel comforted and safe to the point that such situations may never enter our lives, but we cannot ignore the times when we must be called to action, when we must do something in the name of our friends and our loved ones. A donation of $5 today, a one-time donation, is nothing in the long run, but it could mean the cure for Laura, for our children and for any one of us who may at any given time fall victim to the pains of cancer. ONE $5 bill is all I ask. One single donation of $5 toward St. Baldrick’s cancer research foundation. You won’t miss it once you click “send,” I promise.