Many of you know my beautiful wife, Emily.

Maybe you were the last ones standing at an all night dance party. Maybe you've chased rainbows or tended fires or woven magic side by side. Maybe you've whispered about the whimsical icelandic poppy or brought home a resplendent Mighty Tendril bouquet. Maybe you've tread water in warm oceans during an electric thunderstorm or spent hours looking at tiny rocks in desert gullies and mushrooms in mossy forests. Maybe she held your hand with great compassion while you grieved the pains of being a person in a body. Maybe you laughed, sides bursting, talking shit about capitalism or imagining how much gentler this world could be if we took better care of one another.

If you know Em, you know she is one of the most magical and compassionate humans in existence. She’s smart and witty and creative; a badass lady farmer, massage therapist, carpenter, doer of hard shit, and one of the Triangle’s resident flower artists. She’s a connector of people, both to each other and to themselves. She notices things. She pays attention. She shows up wanting good things for people; not just the people she loves, but people. She is fun and funny and curious and remarkably courageous. Like her flowers she reaches tirelessly for brighter warmer things.

Em has spent much of her life caring for other people with her hands, her heart, her attention, her farm, her friendship, and her enormous capacity for love.

And now we need some help taking care of her.

Em was recently diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer.

We found a lump, and a few days later we had positive biopsy results.

When we got the diagnosis, it felt heavy, frightening and full of unknowns. Emily looked at me, smiled, and said “It's okay baby, we’ll do what we’ve gotta do.” Ever since then she's been dancing and laughing her way through this diagnosis.

It’s an understatement to say I’m in awe of my partner. But that is Em. Her bravery and resilience blow me away.

There is a lot we still don’t know about what the coming months and beyond will look like. What we do know is that they will involve oncology appointments, treatments, scans, medications, time away from work and all the ordinary expenses of being alive continuing right alongside the extraordinary expense of having cancer.

The reality is that we’re not financially prepared for everything that comes with this diagnosis.

Emily is a massage therapist, which is deeply physical work. We expect there will be times during treatment when she won’t be able to work as much, or at all. At the same time, we’ll be taking on new medical and treatment related expenses.

We want Em to be able to focus on treatment and take time off when she needs it without finances determining those choices. We’re hoping to raise money to cover some of our medical bills and additional expenses that come with her care.

So we’re asking our community to help carry some of this with us.

Emily has spent her life believing that if we all just took care of each other, the world would be a much better place.

Right now, we’re letting ourselves believe in that, too.

If you can give, thank you. Truly. If you can share this, thank you. And if money isn’t something you have to spare, please don’t feel any pressure. Send Em some love. Tell us something funny. Come visit the farm. Bring some joy into the world. Take care of somebody.

We have been overwhelmed by the generosity of this incredible community we are so privileged to be part of. In the midst of something frightening and uncertain, we’ve experienced one quiet miracle after another. You have made love feel tangible. As we embark on this unfamiliar and frightening adventure together, we are carrying all of that love with us. We love you. We thank you.