Help Claudia conquer cancer

In early April, our incredible mom — Claudia Morales Melara, a Honduran immigrant — was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia after being rushed to the ER. She began intensive chemotherapy on April 15, just days before her 52nd birthday, and will remain in hospital for at least six weeks. She will then continue recieving outpatient treatment and may need a bone marrow transplant. We are asking for your help to fund our mom’s lifesaving treatment, as well as cover associated medical expenses and basic life necessities in this difficult time.

 

The long, scary road ahead is made scarier by the great financial burden it poses to our immigrant family. Our mom has been the family's breadwinner since taking a job at Target, where she still works today, over a decade ago. She lives with two young adult children and her husband, who worked as an Uber driver until his disability and age (78) forced him to stop. We are facing the financial one-two punch that so often comes with cancer: loss of income and new exorbitant expenses.

 

If you’ve had the great fortune of meeting Claudia, you know how radiant a light she is in every way: unthinkingly generous, genuinely caring, endlessly enthusiastic; so funny and unreserved that no frown ever stands a chance; a heart so big and so good that there is no doubting the strength and sincerity of her love for everyone she meets. It is a cliche to say that she lights up every room she enters, but it is the unembellished truth. She is warm without pretense and kind without limit. She meets every single day with an unflinching gratitude and vibrant zeal despite the many obstacles and hardships she has faced throughout her life.

 

There are things you may not know about our mom because she is humble about both what she does for others and what she has overcome. At the turn of the century, our mom immigrated from Honduras to seek safety and opportunity for her newborn daughter and her children yet to come, even if it meant uprooting herself from her homeland and family. Her teaching license did not transfer to the United States; when our family fell on hard times, she applied for a job at Target and has worked her way up to a store leadership position, learning English along the way. In her forties, she was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes and had to navigate this while working long hours and being there for our family through other hardships, including our father's declining health and our struggle to make ends meet under the poverty line.

 

Even just a fraction of what our mom has endured would harden many, turning them cold or despondent, but not her. She has never let herself grow bitter or jaded, never closed herself or her heart off to the world. Her stubborn positivity is not a denial of darkness — it is a refusal to let it win. If you know her, she's probably brightened your day or offered you a helping hand and a smile while our food stamps were running out, her diabetes was taking horrible turns, or her parents faced health crises thousands of miles away in a country she could not visit.

 

We have grown up seeing our mom jump at every opportunity to help those around her without a second’s hesitation, then seek out more. Our household welcomed a never-ending rotation of animals my mom noticed in trouble and nursed back to health — injured ducklings left abandoned, cockatiels with broken wings, even her dog Boris who came scratching at her door. We’ve seen our mom stop to help so many people in need of aid, otherwise unnoticed, that it never occurred to us there was any other way to walk through the world. There’s that Mr. Rogers quote where he recalls his mother telling him to “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” Our mom is the person who helps — and also the person who comforts, who nurtures, who will cheer you up and cheer you on.

 

All that kindness, optimism, unflinching generosity, vibrant zeal we mentioned earlier? That's exactly how she's facing cancer. Three weeks into her hosptial stay, she has never complained or despaired. She faces a treacherous journey but is only afraid of the pain her loved ones may carry. Every day since her trip to the ER has been a new kind of scary, of uncertain, of exhausting — but wherever she goes, there she is: a light, bright as ever, thrilled to be fighting another day.

 

If you would like to help her in that fight, your support — whether in contributing money, in spreading the word, or in sending well wishes — will mean the world to us and our mom.

 

With great gratitude,

 

Claudia Morales (daughter)

Valery Morales

Rogelio Morales Jr.