second to the right : Ronan.

September has always been quite the ordinary month to me. It's the month of almost-fall time. It's the month of Labor Day and barbecues and 9/11 and a time that for me means getting closer to my favorite time of year... that time of long-sleeved t-shirts and hoodies and beanies and sweats. There has never been anything special about September. It's always been, utterly ordinary.

That is, until today.

It's funny, how something so simple can change your entire mood or outlook. Something as simple as a song or a blog post or a Facebook link. And you listen to that song or read that blog post or click on that Facebook link, without even knowing it's going to get inside of you and change you. In as little time as it took for you to listen to that song or read that blog post or click on that Facebook link.

Today was ordinary. With nothing exceptional about it. Well, except that I slept through my last class of the day. yeah, not my first class. My last class. I had every intention of lying down for just ten minutes in between classes back at the apartment and oops... two hours later, I've missed class. So I get up, eat, do some homework, all the while banging my head in for missing class. I am so angry at myself because first off, well I mean, I missed a class and that bugs me to a high degree, but second, it's my favorite class which may or may not have anything to do with the cute boy named Jake who sits next to/talks to me every day. But whatever. Anyway, I go through my normal afternoon routines, all the while complaining about how much this day really sucks. Because I missed a stupid class.

Seriously?

But then, I go on Facebook. Out of pure curiosity or I don't know what I go to this girl's Facebook page. Well, woman I should say. A cute mama who had to grow up so much so fast when her baby was diagnosed with Leukemia and she began the battle against cancer, having to be there for her little girl. I see a link on her wall to a song. A song by one of my favorite singers, a girl who normally writes either upbeat love songs or heartbreak ballads. But in this video, I see her heart really is breaking, and this time it's for a different reason-- one far bigger than anything something as stupid as a jerky guy could have ever done.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I google the name of the song because it's the name of a little boy. Well, that takes me to a blog. It's the blog of another mama. One I don't know. One who had to go through something no parent or human being should ever have to go through when her baby boy Ronan died of Neuroblastoma, a childhood cancer. A mama who, without even knowing it, gave Taylor Swift the lyrics to the next single through the words she writes almost daily to her baby boy who lost his battle with cancer.

Two hours later and I've gone through post after post after post. I learn of the day Ronan was diagnosed with the disease, Stage Four Neuroblastoma. I learn of how he loved racecars and dinosaurs and Small Paul monkeys and Star Wars and playing with his older brothers. I learn of how his mama started writing all of her posts to him the day after he died and how she tells him how lost she feels without him and how the pain isn't going away and the day she found out Taylor Swift named her new single "Ronan" and how she cried and cried when she found out because it's the best way for him to live on and continue to touch the hearts of millions. I learn of how everytime it rains she knows it's from him because he knows how much she loves rain and how happy it makes her and so he sends it to her on her hardest days. I learn of how she started the Ronan Thompson Foundation because she knows she's got to do something bigger with her life, because that's the only possible reason why her RoBaby would die so young. How she thought they were going to win because her and his special bond, their eternal love for one another. Because he's so perfect and special and he would win.

Eventually, I click on May 9, 2011, when her blind hope was shattered and her baby boy's eight month battle with Neuroblastoma ended and he left this earth, just three days before he would have been four.

"I fell in and out of sleep. She left the room about 3 a.m. and the nurse taking care of Ronan patted me around 3:20 a.m. Ronan was ready to leave. I said to her, “Is he gone?” She replied, “Almost.” I grabbed on to my baby boy, whispered in his ear that I loved him, but it was time to go so he needed to come with me. I kept saying, “Come with me, Ronan. Let’s get out of here.” The nurse went to get Woody and when he got to the room, he kissed Ronan goodbye and that was that. His little heart just stopped."

I read the post from that dreadful day, listen to the song one more time, and before I know it I'm in tears. This little boy, with his big blue eyes and happy smile even with a bald head in a hospital bed, has left me in tears. He has changed the way I see things.

For this Mama Maya, and mothers like the one who posted the video on Facebook, September is nothing but ordinary. It's Childhood Cancer Awareness Month.

I don't know anything about Childhood Cancer. The closest I have gotten to it has been that girl who grew up in my stake, and her little girl Tenley Jane. She, unlike Maya, was lucky enough to have her little girl win the fight and keep her with her today. I've read about Ronan. That's the closest I've ever gotten to childhood cancer.

But I know a little something about cancer.

I know it's the reason why I've never known my grandma, whose middle name I have. I know it's why she never got to see me be born. I know it's why my grandpa lived without her for twelve years until a merciful Lord called him home to her. I know it's why my sweet Nana over in Florida lives without her husband for eight years now. I know it's why I don't have my Barb. I know it's why she lived in pain for years. I know it's why her life for so long involved chemotherapy and bruises and hair loss and disappointment and going in and out of remission and being in an out of doctors' offices. It's why I learned true sorrow three months ago when I stood before her grave and my family and friends sent her away with a soft song and let go of white balloons and watched them float up to the Heavens where she now is. I know it's the reason why my Barb didn't get to watch me graduate because her cancer had returned full force. It's why she won't be there to see all of the heartbreak and boy problems she always listened to become worth it when I meet that guy who is perfect in every way, and marry him. She won't be there to watch me be sealed to him. It's why my children won't ever know her. They won't ever be able to call her "GAB" (Great Aunt Barb) just like I always told her they would. It's why I don't go to Chuck-A-Rama anymore because I feel her there and it's just too much. It's why I've put my heart on lockdown. It's why she wasn't with my parents when they dropped me off at college. It's why she won't be on this earth to watch me grow up and become a woman and get everything out of this life. It's why I no longer have my Barbie to talk to. We all thought we had beat it. We thought she was going to be okay. And it's cancer, that came creeping in to take away something so precious from me.

I know it's cancer that took my sweet Barb when she should still be here. She should still be here.

Yeah, I know a little something about cancer. And I know what it's like to hate it with every fiber of my being.

Then I think, of how Barb got to live a pretty full life. I think of how sweet babies like Ronan didn't have that opportunity. Now, I don't know what it's like to feel that mother's love. I just know how much my mom loves me. And how much my sister loves her sweet little boys. I know how deeply, passionately, and sorrowfully Maya Thompson loved and loves her baby Ro, and how she lives the pain of his loss every day. I look into the big blue eyes of sweet baby Ronan's, and I see my nephew, who's about the age Ronan was when he was diagnosed with the disease. And it makes me hate cancer even more when I have the heart-wrenching thought "that could have been him." It could be my sister who has a life of pain and sorrow and a Taylor Swift song, writing posts to her dead baby boy instead of posts about soccer games and birthday parties and books and movies and outings, just like every mother should be able to do. How so many other children are taken by cancer. And even the ones who aren't taken, lose a childhood to hospitals and doctors visits and chemotherapy. I think of how cancer is the #1 killer of children in non-accidental deaths. It breaks my heart. Even as I write this, tears roll down my cheeks and snot clogs up my face and I don't even care that I'm writing this outside where people coming in and out of my building can see. Because this is important. This is one of the most important things I will write, ever.

So to any of you who are reading this, please, we can't do a lot, but we can do something. Spread the word about Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Remind people. Talk to someone who has been touched by it. Comfort them. Give them a hug. Make sure they know they have you. Think of baby Ronan. He has changed me in so short amount of time. Let him change you too. Let his spirit work through you to change the world. And start now in little ways to change it.

So here's what I say, today.

First: spread the word. Post a link on Facebook. Blog about it. Listen to Taylor Swift's "Ronan". Buy it, because all proceeds go to help fund research centers and coping centers for those who have gone through loss. Read Maya's blog. Donate, if that's something you're in a position to be able to do. If not, that's okay. The first step is awareness. So make people aware. Let people know that 46 children every day are diagnosed with cancer, and that seven will die today. Let the world know the things cancer does. But also let them know that cancer will NOT win. Because we will NOT let it. Let the world know that, instead of letting cancer lodge fear in our hearts and set hatred in our souls, we will look cancer in the face, and stand to fight. We will win as many battles as we can. And no matter how many are lost, we will always, always love. We will not let it cripple our hope. We will stand. We will Stand Up To Cancer.

Second: live.

Like I said, we can't win every battle. But what we can do as individuals is live our lives to fullest and best of our abilities. Hug tighter. Hold tighter. Let your kids stay up to watch that movie with you. Play with racecars on the kitchen floor with them. Listen to their stories. Tell them stories. Tell people you love them. Tell someone they changed your life, before it's too late and you're standing before their grave letting go of a white balloon. Maya talks about how she has this "new pair of eyes" which makes her appreciate all the simple things in life. It's so tragic that losing a child gave her that. Don't wait until tragedy strikes to gain that new pair of eyes. Live a life of passion, of adventure. Do everything you can do. Do things you've always wanted to try but were too scared to. Hold on to the people in your life, and never let them go.

Do it for someone you know who lost their life to cancer. If you're lucky enough not to know anyone like that, then do it for a loved one who lost a loved one to cancer. Do it for those still battling. Do it for anyone lost. Do it for anyone you love. You may not know a child with cancer, but think of your brother or sister or niece or nephew or cousin or neighbor or friend and think of how it could have been them. How it could still be them. And live life, for them. 46 children are diagnosed with cancer every day. 7 of them will die today. Beautiful Littles who are taken Home before they really get a piece out of this life. Do everything for them. That's what they would want from us. That's what Ronan would want from not only his mama but also from us. That's what Barb wants from me. So, do it for them. Do it for Barb.

Neuroblastoma. Leukemia. Breast Cancer. Colon Cancer. Lung Cancer. Multiple Myeloma. Whichever one you've been touched by or whichever way you say it, stand up to cancer. Do it for the beautiful blue-eyed baby boy who fought cancer with a smile on his face and died in his mother's arms.

Today, live for Ronan. And stand.