The following is the speech Tish Hearne gave at the Camarillo Relay for Life’s luminaria ceremony at Adolfo Camarillo High School earlier this month. Her 8-year-old son, Thomas, died March 19 follow ing an 8-month battle against a rare and aggressive form of brain cancer. The Hearne family lives in Camarillo. 

I have to say that I literally sat and stared at the computer screen for one solid week while attempting to prepare for tonight, and I could write nothing, because the passion and intense yearning in my heart toward finding the cure for cancer had temporarily paralyzed me from expressing the reality of its effects.

These past few days, I decided to spend time with Thomas in prayer, asking him for guidance. Four days ago, a high school friend, Ken Bendix, surrendered to a 3-year battle against peritoneal mesothelioma, leaving behind his wife and his two young daughters.

My former Relay for Life cocaptain, Grace Callegari, passed away from her long fight with breast cancer in 2006, also leaving behind her spouse and two young children. And last year, Milt Mankoff, another dear friend from the Relay for Life committee, is also gone due to cancer.  

After praying and talking to Thomas, I realized that expressing the reality of the effects of cancer is exactly the kind of fuel that is needed—fuel to create awareness, to fund research, and to continue moving forward toward a cure. 

My own diagnosis of advanced stage breast cancer revealed itself in March 2002 when Thomas was just 22 months old. At that time, our connection with the Camarillo Relay for Life began. Whether our involvement was signing up to be a participant, a team captain, or a committee chair, what we have witnessed firsthand is the devastating effects that cancer has on families across the globe.  

This remarkable event provides us with positive and powerful energy to celebrate, remember and fight back, alongside people who share equal passion.

It is our belief that Thomas’ purpose in life was to make a significant difference in helping to find a cure for childhood cancer. Our lives have been blessed with a boy whose heart and soul were filled with radiant love. This type of love was mystically brought forth and shared with those who knew him, and the love continued to exude during our 8-month stay at Childrens Hospital Los Angeles.

By the grace of God, we were able to hold onto each other and appreciate the miracles of each new day. Without Thomas in our lives we would never have been so rawly exposed to the world of pediatric cancer. Day after day, we witnessed the equivalency of being placed on a battle field.

It was a field with an overwhelming presence of beautiful precious babies, toddlers, young children and teens, all of whom were clearly at war. These heroic little cancer patients filled the clinic and the emergency rooms day after day, waiting for an available room to be admitted on the hematology/oncology floor, only to experience a long and difficult hospital stay. 

The statistics of pediatric cancer are at a staggering high rate with an average of 12,500 children being diagnosed each year. The funding for new clinical trials is unacceptable, with less than 3 percent of the money being used for pediatric cancer research.

Hope is the signature used widely by the American Cancer Society at their Relay for Life events across the world. Our family has personally named our pursuit of hope for children the “Thomas Touch of Hope.”

Over the past seven years, our many memories are insurmountable from the times we’ve shared at this event. We can vividly remember one year when Thomas rode his big wheel vehicle around this track. And, yes, that was the year when I spent a great deal of time worrying that Thomas was going to knock someone down in his path.

Thomas also was a good little entrepreneur over the years. He sold many baked doggy treats and baked people treats at our campsite, while sporting his adorable little apron and baker’s hat.

But from a cancer survivor’s perspective, there’s one memory of Thomas that remains embedded in my soul. It is the image of Thomas taking my hand, as his little face gleamed up at me with so much pride and excitement, leading me toward the luminaria bags that he so diligently and beautifully decorated for his mommy. 

The four of us in our family embrace God’s purpose for Thomas. Helping to cure childhood cancer has become our pursuit— the “Thomas Touch of Hope”— and our pursuit is only strengthened by our tragic loss. Tonight we will all celebrate, remember and fight back because cancer can never, not ever, prevent us from keeping the spirit of loved ones alive in our hearts. Thank you.