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A MEMBER FAMILY'S STORY
The YMCA has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. To this day, I cannot smell chlorine and not think of the YMCA. I know they are using some other chemicals now too, but way back when I fell in love with this place, that’s what it smelled like.
If it was summer, walking into the Y was such a pleasant break from the hot sun. We’d go in through the double doors and feel breeze from the huge circular fans they had in the workout room.
And in the winter, the warm moist air from the heated pool would erase all memory of the snow we tracked in on our boots.
For most of us, life is one big series of challenges, struggles, and triumphs, and for me, the YMCA has been there for each of those things. I remember learning how to swim, starting as a “GUPPY." I was terrified. I probably had to take that same class three times to get over my fear of the water.
To this day, I remember the patience and kindness of my instructors, who never once expressed frustration. I knew I could trust them, that my life was in their hands, and I was safe.
I learned how to shoot baskets in the gym, when I could barely launch the ball high enough to reach the rim. I learned archery in a room in the basement, and dreamed of being just like Robin Hood and his Merry Men. I tried Karate, and quickly realized I could never be Bruce Lee. I learned how to draw there one summer, with real fountain pens, and I did well. I joined the swim team, and failed miserably, but everyone was so nice to me anyway.
Then, when I was older, and had five young kids of my own, I was fortunate enough to be able to bring them. We were really struggling financially and we qualified for a scholarship. I will never forget what it felt like to receive that gift; to know that my children could participate in all the things that I did. And, with the help of my family, they did.
I watched my kids learn to swim, and shoot baskets in the gym, and try Karate. We went to family swims, and spent hours Saturdays playing in the water, and laughing together.
Then, in much the same way that it happens with all lifelong friendships, we had a parting of ways for a while. I moved out of state, and there was no Y close to me anymore. When I found my way back to Ohio five years later, I was so caught up in transitioning back that I forgot to look up our “old friend.”
Then, one day, I walked into work and there was a flyer on my desk announcing that our company was eligible for COSE participation under a new program at the YMCA. I had just arranged for swimming lessons at Kent State for my son, who somehow managed to get to the age of twelve without them, and so I jumped at the chance to take him to the Y to practice his skills.
Boy, was he thrilled. He was hooked. Our kitchen pantry door became COSE/YMCA Central Information Desk. We had every participating Y’s schedule, and the calendar of days, and we worked the rest of our life around that.
We went to every single Y in the group. Our custom bumper sticker would have said “Have COSE/Y Membership, will travel.”
Pretty soon, though, I found that it was getting difficult to manage all the juggling. As it is I work an hour-and-a- half from where I live, and the gas costs were not great either.
So I did the math, and discovered that it would be more financially responsible to get a full membership, but I didn’t have money for the joiner fee. So I waited, and waited, and waited. Someone had told me that if I would be patient, eventually there would be a promotion. And eventually there was. I was there on the first day, early in the morning, so excited to be a “real” member.
Every time the lady behind the desk handed me another key card for one of my family members, I celebrated! We have a large family, and my keychain was full so full of Y cards, I could never find my grocery store or gas cards, but I didn’t care. Now I could go to any Y I wanted, any day I wanted. What a treat! And we did. I was fortunate enough to be homeschooling my son at the time, and we worked our lessons around the schedule.
The YMCA provided his “gym class” element.
Then, without warning, our circumstances changed once again. We found out on August 20 of this year that my husband is sick. One night he was fine, playing with our grandbabies, and protesting that I wanted to video record them for Facebook, and the next morning he was deathly ill, vomiting blood. When he called me at work to tell me, I knew something was very wrong and rushed home. I took him to the emergency room, and we found out he is terminally ill.
He has End Stage Liver Disease. There is no cure. Transplant is the only option. It is a very selective system, and at this time, we do not qualify.
So ever since then, we have been coping. I became the primary wage earner because he is not able to work. We take all our days one at a time, and somehow get through.
My son is finishing this year getting homeschooled, but next year, he will attend high school with his peers. I write a blog to keep people posted, and share our journey. I am working on building a site which will be a valuable resource for all information related to ESLD.
With all that, my attendance at the Y came to a screeching halt. How could I find time, with everything else going on? My husband is in and out of the hospital, my job is demanding, my children and my grandchildren all need me.
So, I put it on hold.
But, like a true friend, the Y is still there for us.
When I discovered how much money a transplant required, I knew I would have to prepare to fund-raise. I came up with the idea of a huge walk, and I called and left a message for Paul Rogerson at the Southeast location.
He called me back, and was kind and supportive, and offered helpful suggestions. He told me he wanted to do a feature story in the newsletter, and I rejoiced. With media attention, we increased our chances of a successful fundraiser.
We scheduled a meeting for November 7, which I had to miss due to a work project. I left him a message, and then he left me one in response. We had an appointment with the transplant doctor on the 16th, so I waited to see what she would say. We needed to get a recommendation for a transplant evaluation to be able to sign with the Transplant Fund group which would allow us to raise funds in a safe way for contributors and not have them counted as income.
Our appointment on the 16th was bittersweet. My husband’s condition improved, and now he is not being evaluated for a transplant at this time. While it is good that he feels a little better, this doesn’t change the fact that this is a deadly disease with life-threatening complications and no cure. Our plans aren’t changed really, just delayed. There is no fixed timetable. We just know at some point, we’ll be trying to jump through those hoops.
So when Paul called me to follow up, I had to tell him the fund-raiser would have to be put on hold. He told me he wanted to do the feature anyway. He thought it would still be a good story to share.
We talked about how the Y brings people together, and it’s true. There are not that many places you can go anymore where everyone is nice, and supportive, and loving in a Christian way.
The Y has managed to remain that oasis for me and my family. With that in mind, I am going over my calendar this weekend, and I will find a way to start bringing us back there again, because we don’t just want it, we need it.
This is a journey, and we welcome you to continue sharing it. Our blog is http://blog.savescott.com
One day, we will probably be doing a fund-raiser with the assistance of the YMCA, and when that day comes, we hope you join us.
In the meanwhile, I just want to make sure we thank all of you, the staff and the patrons alike for being that light in the middle of the tunnel. You’re part of what will help us get to the end.
With warm wishes for a healthy and happy Holiday Season from all of us to all of you,
Scott and Katie, and our children: Sarah, Kristyn, Savannah (and Joe), Shana (and Luis), Scotty, and our grandbabies: Liyana, Isaiah, Adrianna, and Leila, and one still being knit in the womb.
God Bless You.
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