Make-A-Wish Side Effect

I was looking at the picture of my 19-year-old Max, standing on the sparkling white top of Lone Peak, in a black ski patrol coat, with a neon orange avalanche pillow inflated behind his back. He was tall and handsome, and the happiest I have ever seen him. In the next picture, he was in front of the groomer, with his brother’s hand around his shoulder, and Lukas next to them – everyone shining with happiness brighter than the lights of that impressive machine that Max was able to ride with his dad. The week of Spring break that was selected for our family Make-A-Wish trip flashed back in my memory as a slide show filled with memories.

The first slide captured a memory from the middle of the trip, a sunny and windy morning at this stunning Montana Big Sky ski resort. Lukas told me about a woman who approached him after observing how the lift operators welcomed Max to be a part of their crew for the day: “This looks like so much fun! I want to sign up my children for this activity! How can I do this?” “Trust me, you don’t want to,” was his brief reply. He politely circumvented the conversation and hurried back to the hotel room. No, he didn’t tell her about how Max got signed up for this VIP experience, and what the cost of it was. Only a narrow range of illnesses qualify children for a Make-A-Wish experience – these illnesses are life-threatening. Families are always included – The Make-A-Wish community has a clear understanding that a threat to a child’s life knocks the ground from under the feet of their entire family.

“I have never felt so cared for, so supported…” in this next slide I was struggling to find the right words while thanking the resort manager – our main contact person at Big Sky. She granted Max’s wish for not just skiing here but exploring every aspect of running a ski resort by being a part of various teams during their 5-day stay. The stay started with a guide showing the brothers every chairlift and path, and a ski instructor helping me to get back into skiing after a trauma-related 13-year break – a part of Max’s wish was to be able to ski with his mom again. Appreciating the gift of time with the instructor, lift tickets and rental gear, I continued to ski for the rest of the trip with Max’s 16-year-old brother, Victor. Lukas couldn’t ski due to recent knee surgeries but enjoyed the view of the mountains in a spacious, tastefully furnished family suite where he set up a temporary office. The Make-A-Wish team accommodated our request for three beds instead of the standard two for Make-A-Wish family trips – we asked because our children were both over 6 feet tall and simply couldn’t fit into one bed anymore. It was a joy to get together in a cozy living room at night and listen to Max, who lit up the room with energy and positivity while talking about everyone he met and everything he learned during the day.

The following slide was once again out of sequence – here I spontaneously reached out and gave a hug to the owner of the car service who personally drove for 2.5 hours to pick us up at 4am and deliver us to the airport. It felt so special, that I sincerely told him: “This was the best experience in my life!” He then met us upon the return, smiling after a long wait for an unplanned delay due to high winds, already at almost midnight, not a trace of a concern about the five-hour round trip ahead of him. I asked how often he drove so late at night and so far. “Almost never anymore,” smiled our enthusiastic chauffeur, “but I love working with Make-A-Wish and didn’t mind picking up this late shift. Usually, we get booked within a 30–45-minute radius for our regular transfers, and most of the “Wish” families are within an hour. Many of them we take to the airport, most go to Disney… some of them we take on shopping sprees to the mall… no matter what the wish is, it always feels great to take care of them…You know, for many of them it’s the first time on a plane, first time out of their state, even for the parents…”

Max was just boasting his frequent flyer international experiences, and I felt out of place: “You are right, we travel a lot, mostly because my homeland is halfway across the globe, and also because family often follows me to work conferences, and we used to drive to Florida for winter breaks, but… it doesn’t make this gift of travel feel less precious.” The car host turned all the way back to look into my eyes: “I am so glad to hear that.” “This trip was something we could never do on our own,” added Lukas, “I think no matter who the Make-A-Wish team works with, they deliver a dream-like experience that is out of reach any other way.” I continued sharing: “Max was diagnosed three weeks before he turned 18. I remember the first week in the hospital. The doctors were fighting for his life and a social worker kept following me around, asking to sign Make-A-Wish paperwork. She kept saying: I know it’s the last thing on your mind right now, but if you sign it before he turns 18, it will make a big difference later… She was so right… it was truly the last thing on my mind then, and it made such a big difference over a year and a half later…”
Perhaps there’s a sequence more logical than chronological order that places the next memory in this slide show. At the end of the ski lesson, I confided to my instructor: “A year and a half ago I felt that all joy, all happiness was leaving my life, and just now I felt that it truly can come back. I can’t thank you enough.” I tried to stop tears, not ready to remove my goggles and face the bright sun reflecting off white fluffy snow. The instructor put away the phone he just used to record my first successful run down the hill. He stood with his back facing the sun and pulled up his goggles – his eyes reflecting deep empathy: “I understand. I lost my father to pancreatic cancer…” I startled myself by quickly interrupting: “I lost my father to chronic leukemia…” and pulled myself back, “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, my heart is aching for you, and it was aching when my dad died…” He smiled: “I understand, it’s very different when it’s your baby…”

After a much longer than usual interval (there was no time during the trip), I was once again on the phone with my best friend who has supported me throughout this journey of survival. “This is it! Thank you for helping me figure out what actually happened. When Max was so suddenly diagnosed with extra aggressive acute blood cancer, I lost trust in this world. Not mentally – I was not rebelling, denying… but psychologically, I could not trust life anymore, just couldn’t count on any type of predictability, all I felt was constant threat, the ground kept slipping from under my feet. Subconsciously, of course. Consciously I went through the stages of adjustment and seemed well-adapted before this trip. But the trip made me realize how deeply I dug my emotions. And all the genuine care from people who truly felt like a team,the Make-A-Wish team, had a deeply therapeutic effect. It was on that hill in the Rocky Mountains when I felt that the ground stopped rocking under my feet, even though I was sliding all over trying to stay standing on a blown-over icy slope. The Make-A-Wish slide effect… I don’t know how to thank all these people. A “thank you” note just won’t do it. I may write a story.” “Please, write,” my friend’s sensitivity to what is truly genuine registered no doubts – a hand that was always there when the ground was shaky seemed to relax into a more normal hold, ready for the trip ahead, whatever it brings.