My Dad is Dadcore

On October 4, 2011 my dad was diagnosed with stage IV pancreatic cancer. This is his legacy and it is Dadcore.

I gave blood back to the hospital that treated by Dad yesterday. It was my first pleasant experience giving blood thanks to the kind employees of MGH.
 I left my phone in a NYC cab this weekend and it was mailed back to me yesterday with the help of a friendly cab driver and the technology of iCloud. This gives me hope in humanity and technology. 
The guy who found it said: “My father always told me that if you pick something from street, that’s my responsibility to send it back. I am doing what I learned from my parents.”

 I left my phone in a NYC cab this weekend and it was mailed back to me yesterday with the help of a friendly cab driver and the technology of iCloud. This gives me hope in humanity and technology.

The guy who found it said: “My father always told me that if you pick something from street, that’s my responsibility to send it back. I am doing what I learned from my parents.”

“Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.”

—   Arthur Ashe

Tracy Hunter's Personal Page for 2014 New York City Pancreatic Cancer Research Walk

thuntress:

On October 4th, 2013 My family and I suffered a great loss. We lost one of the greatest men to ever grace our lives, my father. This has not been an easy road for my family and I. Back in November of 2012 we received the news that my father was diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer. He was given only a few months to live. We were so blessed to have been given not just a few months, but eleven months with him, to enjoy life and spend time together, as a family. I always find it so amazing and actually uplifting when I look back at the few days after he was diagnosed; my father looked at his diagnosis as just another hurtle to climb. He always kept a positive attitude and never once gave up. My father always saw the good in everything. When he was diagnosed with cancer, I remember him coming up to me and saying “This is a blessing in disguise”, and he was smiling. I remember being completely confused because I thought of this as ANYTHING BUT a blessing. My dad looked at me and said “Pancreatic cancer brought you back to me.” Before my father was diagnosed, our relationship as father and daughter was not as close as we had wanted it to be, and with his diagnosis we realized how stubborn and plain out dumb we were actually being. It breaks my heart that it took something so dark to have us embrace our relationship, but my father saw this as the way it HAD to be. He saw the light in something so awful. This will forever be one of the hardest challenges my family has faced and so on April 6th, 2014 we will be walking for my father on our team “Fighting For Frank” please join the fight to end Pancreatic Cancer.

Thanks to a commitment by Cablevision to underwrite the Foundation’s administrative expenses, 100% of every dollar donated to the Foundation goes directly to pancreatic cancer research.

I never thought that cancer would be something that would affect me so directly. After having two people very close to me challenged by it, it made me realize how essential it is for us to come together and try and tackle this issue. So join my family in I with our battle against Pancreatic Cancer.

Let’s give patients a fighting chance.

MEMORY by Stephen Dunn

A kind of achievement, William Carlos Williams said. Or a curse, said the man who couldn’t get the phone book out of his head. Speak, Nabokov asked of his. Which it tends to, if we invoke it often enough. Imagination is its most important friend, selecting, coloring, casting aside. Without imagination, an endlessness, like my colleague’s story of his summer by the lake when he listed birds and his wife was tortured by a lingering cold; he told me so much I didn’t know what I’d been told. More and more I forget what I need, and remember what I’d like to forget. And sometimes I keep talking, keep recalling, as a way of not saying what I feel. Memory’s law: what we choose to say about our past becomes our past. That other past, the one we’ve lived, exists in pieces that flicker and grow dim. I can buy memory in a store called Circuit City. I can press search, and find a fact, a person, but not what I’ve most dearly lost. Every time I save I exclude.

(Shared by Becky Gambale in honor of National Poetry Month)

dearmrh:

Hey Dad, I spent the morning at the beach today watching Aaron surf. I got a bad concussion snowboarding so I have to take some time off.  I don’t know if I ever told you how much I appreciated you coming to watch me surf all the time in the winter. I know you came because you were afraid to have me go into 20 degree water by myself but I always liked knowing that you were on the land watching me. I knew i would be fine and deep down you knew I would be fine too, it was just your way of showing support wasn’t it? Like when you wore a Hawaiian shirt so you would fit in and look like a “big kahuna” when you came into Cinnamon Rainbows surf shop with me…hehe that day still makes me laugh…I loved our time at the beach together…plus someone had to help me get out of my wetsuit :)  Love always,  Toots

dearmrh:

Hey Dad, I spent the morning at the beach today watching Aaron surf. I got a bad concussion snowboarding so I have to take some time off.
I don’t know if I ever told you how much I appreciated you coming to watch me surf all the time in the winter. I know you came because you were afraid to have me go into 20 degree water by myself but I always liked knowing that you were on the land watching me. I knew i would be fine and deep down you knew I would be fine too, it was just your way of showing support wasn’t it? Like when you wore a Hawaiian shirt so you would fit in and look like a “big kahuna” when you came into Cinnamon Rainbows surf shop with me…hehe that day still makes me laugh…I loved our time at the beach together…plus someone had to help me get out of my wetsuit :)
Love always,
Toots

Letters to my Dad

There are so many times during the day I find myself saying, “Oh Dad would have loved this!” Or “too bad Dad couldn’t be here!” Or straight out talking to him like a crazy person. I know I’m definitely not the only one who does this because he marked so many people throughout his life.

My awesome sister finally did something about it and is collecting her own letters to Mark Hudon in a blog. You should check it out! 

"If I can see joy in your eyes then share with me your smile.” ― Santosh Kalwar
Riding for Hope!

Words from Jess Hudon on 03.07.2014

Hey Dad, remember when I would come home from spring break and you would take your lunch break with me and watch reruns on MTV with me…and we would go check out lighthouses in NH, antiques in Essex and walk around Salem pretending to be tourists. Those were the best spring breaks! xoxo

Teaching About the Pancreas

The more you know.

One Family's Journey with Sagittal Synostosis

This is Momcore! Tai shares her emotions, heartaches and blessings along the way as she deals with her infant daughter’s journey with sagittal synostosis. 

Globe Readers And Non-profits Together

Are you a Boston Globe subscriber? A friend or family member one? If so - they should have received a “GRANT” certificate in their paper recently.

These certificates entitle the 501 (c) (3) organization they specify to $50 worth of advertisement in the Globe. The more vouchers, the more credit the organization gets! PLEASE if you received one of these or know someone who has, encourage them to put down the “Pancreatic Cancer Action Network - Boston Affiliate”. 

Ice fishing in the land of the way things outta be.