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Aimee is the mother of Nicholas (age
10), Emily (8) and Zachary (4) pictured below. She loves them dearly. She kisses their boo-boos, soothes their
hurt feelings, hugs them tightly when they've had bad dreams. She would do anything—endure anything—to
spare them pain. And she aches for them, knowing there is one pain she can't prevent.
The pain of losing their
mom far too soon. (Okay, a little
melodramatic--cue the violins--but unfortunately, it's also true.)
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| Nicholas, Zachary and Emily |
She is
the planner of silly games and messy crafts for her kids' birthday parties. She used to love to read aloud to her children,
her voice jumping octaves as she used all kinds of crazy accents and intonations for the different characters.
But she
rarely reads aloud now; her speech is slurred, her voice is scratchy, and reading one short book wears her out.
She's
trying to learn about Pokémon, but so far finds
it beyond her comprehension—much to Nick's chagrin. She's a recovering sudoku addict. She's learning to play chess.
She increasingly turns to mind games as her body betrays her. One by one, her muscle groups will fail, but her
brain will not.
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| Aimee's husband, Jim |
She is a die-hard Cardinals fan who married Jim, a Cubs fan, and cheers for both (well, at least when they're not playing
each other).
And ALS
is robbing them of their future.
She spends ridiculous amounts of time frosting her famous "Mimi cookies" to fit any theme. And she spends even
more ridiculous amounts of time scrapbooking and writing, so her children will have a part of her to keep with them always.
Because she will be gone too soon.
Aimee
is a reluctant warrior, drawn into the fight against Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS), better known as Lou Gehrig's disease—a
disease that slurs Aimee's speech and erodes her strength, causes her to choke and splutter and stumble and fall. A disease
that leads her oldest to use his third-grade math skills to try to figure out Aimee's life expectancy. A disease that leads
Jim to work hard all day, then come home to another full-time job of picking up the slack with the cooking, housekeeping,
errand-running, etc. A disease that leads her children to worry about whether wicked stepmothers really exist.
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| Aimee |
In 1941, ALS killed Lou Gehrig at the
age of 37. Now, 65 years later, there is still no cure. Aimee is fortunate to have now made it to 38, but too many patients
aren't that lucky. We are committed to raising awareness and raising funds to bring an end to ALS—for Aimee, for her family,
and for all ALS families.
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