Thank you

Just wanted to thank everyone for their contributions. It means so much to us that our wedding (and beyond) will have a positive impact on these patients' lives, and also make a connection between our marriage and Jennifer's mom. It's really exceeded our expectations. Thank you again, and can't wait to celebrate soon!

February Donations

Only a few days until Jon and I get married, and we got the news today that our donation figure has now reached an unbelievable $4,400.

Thank you so very much.

January Donations

Just three weeks now until our wedding, and we've raised over $3,000. Jon and I are so excited that something that makes us so happy (each other!) is also helping others.

Watermelon: A Glimmer of Hope

A Glimmer of Hope
by Eve Coleman, 1992

Okay, maybe,
Just maybe
I’ve been looking
at the shoes
all wrong.

Perhaps they’re
Not worn out.

Perhaps once more
I can replace the
Heavy woolen socks
With watermelon shoes.

So what if the shoes
Are a little worse for wear?
Fading semicircles
Are barely discernible
To the casual eye.

Few really look
Beneath to see
The worn out sole

And those who do
Are content to see
A hint of what once was--
Bright green rind
Cushioning hot pink fruit.

Those who do
Look beneath the surface
Celebrate the sole below
Replete with rends and tears.

It is for them,
Those who
Celebrate my soul,
That I will drag
The well worn shoes
Around on wobbly legs
Until the cobblers tell me
They have sewn their last stitch.

Watermelon Shards

Watermelon Shards
by Jennifer Coleman, March 1994

I remember joining your hands together at the beach.
I remember hiding under a desk when you fought, which was never very often.
I remember Space Mountain, when she was so scared that she hid her head in my lap.
We were always together, family and friends forever.
Watermelon summers and fall nights passed away into years.

I remember the day, it wasn’t that far away,
When our glass world was shattered for the first time.
We cried together. He was my shelter--I had no other support that year.
We knew the time would pass, and summer came at last.

Watermelon days turned into fall nights, and we were, no, I was happy at last.
But she was in pain again, we didn’t know why.
I remember the day she couldn't get up, and all I could do was cry.
The glass shattered again, this time into tinier fragments.
The shards will never fit back together exactly the same.
I remember her state of shock the weekend the glass shattered,
But I was not near her.

We had separate plans, and to those we stuck.
She went one way and we went the other
I remember his support.
I never knew just how strong his shoulder was until
I had to lean on it to get through the day.
I remember how our words wrenched with sobs showed expression,
But the pictures from that weekend captured the moment.

Time moved on once again, and another Watermelon summer passed us by.
It was a golden summer, ironic that it should be so.
The questions we had we pushed into the back of our minds,
And she and I drank the Island’s fine wine.

Watermelon days turned into fall nights,
And we took our happiness where we could find it.
Winter settled upon us.
It has not been an easy one.
The shards of glass continue to break through her skin.

Will another Watermelon summer pass us by?
The shards are hidden, and we are uncertain where or when they will return.
Uncertain is an apt description of the newer lifestyles we have had to affect.
With the uncertainness in my step,
I seem to have prospered during these times of the shattered glass.

We take each day in stride,
And take chances,
And say I love you as if there will be no tomorrow.
Maybe there won’t be one.
If there isn’t, we have done everything right.
We have not held anything back, merely held on.
Winter days are fading into spring breezes,
Which will soon turn into Watermelon days,
And we are still holding strong.

December Donations

In December, the Fund reached almost $3,000 in donations. Every dollar raised will quickly help a breast cancer patient in need.

Thank you very much and have a happy and healthy 2008.
Love, Jennifer & Jon

A Little About Eve

Eve was born an only child in Shreveport, Louisiana in 1947 and grew up in Lepanto, Arkansas. She attended colleges in Missouri and Texas before transferring to the University of South Carolina to be near her husband-to-be, Alan. She and Alan married in 1969 and lived in Memphis, where Eve received a masters in education from Memphis State University.

Alan and Eve moved to Charleston, South Carolina in 1971 following the death of his father. Eve taught English at St. Andrew's Parish High School, which Alan and Jennifer both attended, and also worked as the English coordinator of the Charleston County School district. Eve later taught at Charleston Southern University while pursuing her PhD from the University of South Carolina. Jennifer was born in 1978.

Eve was diagnosed with breast cancer in December 1991, and passed away in May 1994. At that time, she was an associate professor of education at the College of Charleston. She was also a member of the National Council of Teachers of English and a former president of the South Carolina Council of Teachers of English.

The spirit with which she fought cancer and embraced her life was admired by and greatly affected her friends, colleagues, and family.

Brides Against Breast Cancer

My wedding dress cost $250 plus a $200 entry fee to the opening night fete of this year's Brides Against Breast Cancer event in New York, yet it feels like a million bucks. Or maybe two.

BABC is a traveling wedding dress bonanza that raises money for Making Memories, a non-profit organization that grants wishes to metastatic breast cancer patients. Some dresses are donated new, while others are gently (and hopefully merrily, lovingly, and memorably) worn.

Jen, a good friend and fellow journalist, sashayed down the aisle in an exquisite pre-worn gown in July, and she convinced me to try my luck at BABC. I was reluctant, as the idea of being one amongst a sea of New York brides nearly gave me hives. She mercifully offered to join the fray.

I knew I wanted a lace dress, and as occurs on many of my shopping expeditions, when I couldn't at first find what I was looking for, I wanted to run screaming out into the fall night. But once I tried on a handful of dresses and began to spot even better ones on other people's clothes racks and bodies, I rallied a little. We finished round one with a few almost-maybes, but found nothing in full lace.

After taking a cupcake and champagne break, Jen convinced me to go in for round two. She found a few more dresses, and right before I joined her in the fitting room, I grabbed a dress I'd tried on before after seeing it on the girl next to me. It was only partially lace, but the lace was high quality, and it had the A-line cut I wanted, a gorgeous train and bustle, a sweetheart neckline, and a low back. When I tried it on again, something in me clicked, and I knew it was my dress.

Today I'm going for my first post-alteration fitting, and I can't wait to see my dress again after a month apart! When I brought it home, I realized it really is the perfect one for me, for the way it makes me feel, and for the price and cause. I am proud of my dress, and pleased with how it gently, beautifully, reminds me of my Mom.

Though I know it will be hard to part with it, after the wedding I have every intention of donating it back to Brides Against Breast Cancer, to continue the cycle of giving, caring, and fighting.

November Donations

In November, the Eve Coleman Memorial Fund raised over $1,600, already surpassing our goals and hopes. Thank you very much for caring about us, my Mom, and the fight against cancer.

Love,
Jennifer & Jon

Contribution: Eve: A Never-to-be-Forgotten Friend

Dear Jennifer and Jon,

May I offer you both my heartfelt congratulations for your upcoming union. You two give renewed respect to the sacred vows of marriage for your decision to honor your mother's memory on this very special occasion.

Eve was everything God intended us to be on this earth. Perhaps it is by no accident that her name was the first woman's name to appear in the Book. Eve was quite a woman: intelligent, charming, witty, talented and so genuine.

When Eve became ill, I marveled at her courage and willingness to assist others by involving herself in cancer support groups, lecturing to college students on death and dying, and bringing so much joy to those of us who could hardly bare the thought of losing her.

My last moment with Eve was during her birthday party. As photos were being taken, she asked me to sit on her lap for a pose. Even then, Eve was the 'life" of the party! On May 21, I was in Greenwood, Mississippi, preparing to give my daughter, Caroline, away in marriage. Before the wedding, I received a call from Charleston telling me that Eve had died. I remember going to a quiet place, turning towards the sky, and telling Eve "goodbye." That day was one of the happiest and one of the saddest moments in my life.

Soon there will be another wedding--Jennifer and Jonathan--and I am sure if you two listen very closely during the ceremony, you will hear the sweet voice of Eve Coleman blessing your union.

Peter Yaun
Saint Simons Island, GA

Wow

I'm stunned -- the Fund received its first donation today, for $1,000. This is an incredibly generous amount, and more than we would have ever expected. Thank you very very much.

Eve Coleman Memorial Fund

Some months ago, Jon told me that when we got married he didn't want to register for gifts because he'd prefer the money be given to charity. As many a bride or groom can imagine, I balked. No gifts? But what about all the people who love us and want to give us gifts to celebrate our new life together? But how would we afford all the things that would help us make a comfortable home together, as opposed to the hodge-podge of old dishes, ripped sheets, and uncomfortable furniture we live with now? He began to see my point.

As they often do, our ideas came together into an even better one. We decided that when the time came, we would set up a fund in honor of my Mom that would donate money to a worthy, breast cancer-related organization.

Now, as we plan our wedding, we have started the Eve Coleman Memorial Fund at Roper St. Francis Hospital, where Mom was a patient. The money raised by the Fund will be used to provide treatment to underfunded breast cancer patients who are part of the Breast Health Navigator Program.

What is the Program?
The Breast Health Navigator Program began at Roper in 2003. It is headed by an oncology-certified advanced practice nurse (the Navigator). Though my Mom didn’t get to experience it, her favorite nurse later became the hospital’s first Navigator.

When a patient receives a positive biopsy, the Navigator contacts the patient to offer assistance and provide support. The Navigator then acts as an advocate and resource who directs the patient to information regarding diagnosis, treatment and recovery.

What Services Does the Program Include?
-Give support to patients with a new diagnosis, recurrence, coping problems, end-of-life issues and/or family support needs
-Serve as a consistent and knowledgeable clinical resource throughout the treatment continuum
-Act as a link between care providers and treatment settings
-Identify and meet ongoing learning needs of patients and families
-Provide educational programs on breast health to professional and community groups

Where Will The Fund Money Go?
The Navigator will oversee the utilization of the money we raise, which will be dispersed on a first come, first served basis to the patients most in need.

Roper already offers free mammogram and diagnostic breast imaging procedures to eligible low-income women, and the Roper St. Francis Cancer Center has kindly offered to waive facility charges for the women being treated with the Fund's money. This means that the money we raise will go towards patients' contiuum of care, which includes supplies, professional fees, and other necessary supportive needs.

What Is The Blog’s Purpose?
While Roper cannot share patient-specific uses of the Fund due to confidentiality rules, it will track and share how the money is expensed. Watermelon Shoes will be our venue for sharing how the Fund money is spent, and will track monies raised (we will not mention specific contributors unless they approve it).

In addition, many of you didn't have the opportunity to meet Eve, but we hope you'll get to know her here, where we'll share more about her, post her writing and poems, photos, and other related information. Roper will also share the blog with its patients – we hope it will inspire them as they fight their illness.

If you have questions or would like to share a memory or thought about Eve, we welcome you to email watermelonshoes[at]gmail.com. Please indicate if you’d like your message posted.
>>>>>
Please send your donation to:
Roper St. Francis Foundation
25 Doughty Street, Suite 790
Charleston, SC 29403
Attention Annette Shepard
Re: Eve Coleman Memorial Fund

Roper is a federal and state income tax exempt organization per section 501(c)3 of the IRS tax code. As a corporation d/b/a Roper Hospital, Incorporated (RHI), its federal tax ID is #57-0828733.
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Thank you!
Jennifer & Jon

Special thanks to Scott Broome at the Roper St. Francis Cancer Center for his assistance, and to Dr. David Ellison, who always goes above and beyond as both doctor and family.

Watermelon Winter

Watermelon Winter
by Eve Coleman, December 1992

Yesterday,
In the dead of my worst winter
I bought shoes...

Watermelon shoes.

That's what the salesclerk called them,
anyway.

Magenta snakeskin toes and purple snakeskin heals
Connected the flimsiest of light airy net.
And just at the place on each side
Where my arch might be, two watermelon halves
Broke through.

Bright green semi-circles with hot pink
Snakeskin center
Reminded me of juicy times past and hinted that,
Indeed,
This winter may one day end
And summer come again.

Watermelon shoes.

I squinted hard to see what the clerk saw
And finally saw it, too.
Bright green rind cushioning hot pink fruit.

I took off my heavy woolen socks,
And for a minute,
Just a minute,
I glimpsed the summer that will come again.

Then I took off the shoes,
Putting them carefully away,
And slipped back into my woolen socks.
For now, the image of that box will
Have to do
As I dream of
Watermelon shoes.