This weekend, we should have been holding our stand in Alex's memory in our neighborhood. For 20 years, this has been our annual family tradition. Of course, the first year, in 2000, we did not know it would be our annual tradition, or that her little front yard stand would become her legacy -- one that has raised more than $200 million to find a cure for other kids with cancer. There was so much we did not know then: like how many more years Alex would fight; that her treatment would take our family to Philadelphia where we would raise our kids; that her story would inspire people to join her movement, to start their own movements and to believe that one person can make a difference; that people would name their children after Alex. The list goes on and on; but nothing is more precious to me than knowing that her life has literally made other kids' lives possible, by helping to provide them with the cures that she never knew in her life. This is truly remarkable.
Isolation isn't a new experience for my wife Liz and I. Like other childhood cancer families, isolation is familiar and necessary. Almost exactly 20 years ago, our family willingly went into isolation for one month. During Alex's isolation, we learned so much. Greatness can come out of trying times and isolation.
I have a little love note that I cherish. It simply says, “I love you, Mom,” in that sweet irregular handwriting that is the trademark of young kids. My daughter Alex wrote it for me when she was around 6 years old. This year marks 20 years since Alex’s first lemonade stand, and 16 years since Alex was last here to pour lemonade and write me love notes. But her legacy has kept the love pouring in.
Today is my daughter Alex's birthday. If Alex were here, we'd be celebrating her 24th birthday. I cannot pretend that these 16 years without Alex have not been painful. Every day without our daughter is marked with pain and grief mixed in with normal, joyous and extraordinary moments. Alex's story—her impactful life, her strong spirit, her wisdom and her belief that anyone, even a kid with a front yard lemonade stand, could make an impact in the fight against something as big and scary as childhood cancer—that is a story I am so glad I get to live. Alex believed that a lemonade stand could cure childhood cancer. And we still do, too.
As time goes by, it is harder to feel close to Alex. Our lives have continued, as they should. The years have created a divide between Alex and me—one that can’t be bridged by any legacy, as it is filled with lost years, lost smiles, and memories we might have created, with me on one side and Alex on the other.
But, there is something else about this divide. It represents the possibilities of what Alex might have become, and I smile when I think of that. It also represents the opportunity Alex left for us—the chance to bridge the divide between cancer and cures—between lives cut short and long, healthy lives.
It all started with one front yard lemonade stand.
ALSF Founder Alex Scott had a big idea: to host lemonade stands to help other kids just like her feel better. Alex's first stand kept growing each year and four years later, when Alex was 8-years-old, her lemonade stand raised $1 million for childhood cancer research. This year, you can experience the stand that started it all on Saturday, June 1, at Penn Wynne Elementary School.
Earlier this week, we sat in our Alex’s Lemonade Stand Foundation office to look through photos of Alex that we hadn’t seen in a long time. It was a conscious walk down memory lane—one that took us through Alex’s eight birthday parties and her now-famous-lemonade stands and regular family moments with Alex and her three brothers, Patrick, Eddie and Joey.
Starting with her very first lemonade stand, Alexandra “Alex” Scott, Alex’s Lemonade Stand Foundation (ALSF) founder, sparked a movement—a movement not only to help sick kids get better and find cures for childhood cancer; but one that would inspire and call on each one of us to work together.
Over the last 13 years, childhood cancer heroes and their families, donors, volunteers, and of course, researchers have come together for one goal: cures for childhood cancer.
I can’t believe it’s been 14 years since I had the pleasure of hearing my daughter Alex’s voice, seeing her smile, and just sitting alongside her. A lot has happened since then!
Jason is a high school student who plans to get a PhD in mathematics. When he was 2 years old, he was diagnosed with Ewing sarcoma. He had a rotationplasty, a surgery that saved Jason's leg, and his life. He's been able to remain active 13 years later!
