So, while not everything has righted itself with Jayne's inevitable recovery, there is a bit of light amidst the hazy gray of a hospital in Phoenix.
When Shay and I were ultimately convinced to start up a gofundme, neither of us was entirely sure that we were comfortable with people giving us money, as it were. Sure, we knew that were going to be in the hole after everything was said and done. Sure, we knew that trying to live day to day on hopes, wishes, and faith would be quite laughable. But, still, we were never comfortable with taking money from other people so that we could continue to get by while our baby fights off cancer. Eventually, we gave in and started one with the minimal goal of 5 thousand, a goal that we figured we would never see the fulfillment of for the duration of our stay. We admitted that there might be a chance of overly generous people finding it within their hearts to contribute to our personal disaster.
I never expected the fulfillment of that number to come and, surely, I never suspected that it would happen in the manner in which it did.
As most of you know, there is a certain fighter who is taking a step back and playing Mickey to our Jayne. Sure, he has spent most of his career fighting for himself, honing his craft and making a name for himself. But when the chips are down, when Jayne needed to run up the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, Justin was there to play Eye of the Tiger, guitar and vocals all the way. I don't want to denigrate the efforts that most of you, all of you, have put forth for my little guy, but Justin Gaethje took it to another level.
You've read about the donations he gave to the auction in Pima and those he inspired in the World Series of Fighting. It put a different spotlight on our tiny cancer champion than just that. Most of our audience was family and friends. Our cheerleader squad was composed of aunts and uncles, grandparents and cousins. Today, however, he went above and beyond. He met our five thousand dollar goal. He didn't send us a message, he didn't comment it anywhere that I could find, and he didn't try to self-promote as he did it. But he gave to my son purely for his sake. Maybe he won't say something about it, but I will venture into that territory. Everyone else reading this, stop, right now. The longer you read, the redder his cheeks are going to get (yes, I mean the badass fighter).
Thank you, Justin. You never had a reason to take an interest in my son's struggle other than the fact that your mother, a woman I can heartily identify with because we both love our son very much, mentioned it to you (as far as I know). Despite no prior contact with this little ball of handsome personality, you decided to give it your all towards our family. You managed to attract the attention of your own organization and journalists who wouldn't have given a second though about another baby with leukemia. It isn't cruel because it is reality, there are too many babies, developmentally and in the eyes of their parents, afflicted with this terrible disease.
If your generosity, Justin, can bring the spotlight on this smallest of generations, whether they have cancer, developmental diseases, or even just born without a silver spoon, I say to you "Cheers mate." You have done a great service to my family. To Jayne. To me. You sir, are a wonderful human being, as most of us are but rarely have the balls to actually exhibit. When Jayne is declared cancer free, I would like for you and him to meet. So that he could have the honor of meeting one of the many fighters in his corner and that you
might have the pleasure of meeting the boy they call Jayne.
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