The last time I wrote a daylog, I mentioned a fourteen-year-old girl. She has brain cancer. It's terminal.
They had a party for her, after hours, at her high school last night. She and her sister are both huge fans of Doctor Who, second-generation fans, so that was the theme. Guests entered through a TARDIS door. Fairy lights behind a dark curtain gave us stars in space. Episodes played quietly onscreen.
Through the help of some agency or contact or other, Make a Wish Foundation, maybe, she received a call from David Tennant. It's impossible to know what passed through his mind as he spoke with her.
My tiny contribution were the purple-lens glasses. Her sister wore them in a production I directed. Everyone wanted to try them out, at the time, and the young actor wanted to keep them. They suited the role so well I held them for the next year-- when a different performer in the same role also coveted the glasses. I'm not certain what the appeal is. In the end, they're just purple glasses, psychedelic cat's eyes.
Next
They went to the Guest of Honour last night, so now she can make her older sister instantly jealous, whenever she wants. Also, they do look very cool on her.
She has a small amount of hair left, blonde.
She's fond of wearing ties. Today, they're encouraging everyone at the school to wear a tie. More significantly, friends are assembling a team for a forthcoming "Spring Sprint" event that raises money for the Brain Tumour Foundation. Some local businesses are donating to the Sprint based on the number of ties worn.
She's determined to continue, just a little longer. And then a little longer. Last night, a bitterly cold night, they held a fun little party, with children, teens, adults, a community event for a remarkable young person, who, barring a literal miracle, soon will cease to walk among us.
A man said to the universe:
"Sir, I exist!"
"However," replied the universe,
"The fact has not created in me
A sense of obligation."
--Stephen Crane, 1899.
Next