My grandfather died of cancer of the larynx in 1953, 11 years before I was born. My father was 17 at the time. His mother died five years before that.

Cancer robbed me of more than a grandparent. It robbed me of my family history.

What my father went through as a teenager I simply cannot fathom. He survived it, and thrived, graduating from Brown University and starting a career as an engineer. When we moved to Massachusetts, we were fairly close to his relatives in Rhode Island. Yet since my father was an only child, we never quite knew how we were related to anybody.

Understandably, Dad’s defense mechanism as a teenager and young man was not to dwell on what he could not control. His parents were gone. He moved on and built his own life. Yet talking about his own life and family, particularly those he left back in Italy, did not come easy. In fact, unless you asked him, he really didn’t talk about it.

It wasn’t until years later, when he had grandchildren in grade school, that he began to talk and volunteer information about our family history. Thank goodness for all those teachers who assigned their students the task of interviewing somebody from another country. So, now I know a little more, but the writer in me would have loved to have known so much sooner.

Cancer stole a grandfather from me that I never knew. Yet it stole from my father his youth. And for me, it delayed me learning about the incredible family I come from.

I’m riding in the Pan Mass Challenge for all the grandsons and granddaughters who never got to meet their grandparents. That could have been my daughter. It was years before she was born that Dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer. Yet because of advances and technology and regular examinations on his part, the cancer was removed without radiation. My daughter has met and knows her grandfather and she knows his story. At 8 and with Dad still going strong, it’s safe to say she will remember him for the rest of her life.

Children deserve to know their grandparents. If you agree, please help me help that happen by donating to the Pan Mass Challenge. 100 percent of rider donations go to the Dana Farber/Jimmy Fund. You can make a difference.

It was three dollars. Yet it means as much to me as any donation received so far. You see, the $3 was from my then 7-year-old daughter. It represented 50 percent of her life savings (thankfully, she’s unaware of what we have been putting away for her).

The donation conversation occurred over breakfast. Actually her breakfast, which consists of me making lunch while she eats and then sitting at my laptop and trying to get some work done while she tries to make conversation and delay her morning shower. On that day, I was all ears.

“Dad, I’ve got $6 in my piggy bank. I’d like to give you $3 for your ride.”

Giving her a hug, “Ah, Sophia, that’s sweet, but I don’t’ want to take your money.”

“But, Dad, does doing the ride make you happy?”

“Yes, it does.”

“Then I want you to have it.”

Another proud hug followed. “You hang on to your money and I will let you know when I’m ready for it.”

What’s always amazed me about Sophia is she gets it—without even knowing she gets it. Doing the Pan Mass Challenge is a lot of work to train and raise funds. Yet it really is a gift to yourself as each donation that comes in brings smile to my face and tears to my eyes. Each one. That’s why I’m delaying acceptance of Sophia’s $3 until it puts me over my minimum of $3200.

If you want to help bring Sophia closer to making her donation, click here.

I find it rather ironic that she wants to contribute to a cause to cure a disease she knows very little about. I’m sure she’s heard it mentioned around the house, on television or at school. Yet she does not know how closely it has touched her life. In fact soon, I’m not sure how soon, she will know plenty about it. There are people in her life that have this insipid disease and she is unaware of that fact. For now, she just wants to help Daddy, but she will really be helping them.

As a writer, I loathe use of profanity and vulgarity in print. Most of the time, it is completely unnecessary and can be said a better and more inventive way. Yet there is no getting around this and sugar-coating what cancer does. As my Millis neighborhood friend Donna Dwyer put it, “cancer sucks!”

She knows firsthand having lost her 20-year-old niece to it a few years ago. That’s why even though she’s a single mom working several jobs to put her daughter through college, she was one of the first to donate to my ride. Thank you, Donna.

We all know somebody who has cancer or succumbed to it. The Pan Mass Challenge is about them, not the people riding in it. That’s why 100 percent of the donations raised by riders goes to the Jimmy Fund/Dana Farber. That’s right, 100 percent!

It’s a cliché to say that every little bit helps. But it is true. The $3 my daughter will donate is going to prove that. And who’s to say that little amount of money doesn’t lead to the research that finally puts an end to cancer?

The one thing doing this ride has taught me is do not say anything is impossible. You will be proven wrong.

If you want to give, you can go to my online site or mail a check written out to Pan Mass Challenge and mail it to me at: Joe D’Eramo, 111 Kathleen Drive.  Plymouth ,MA.

Now, I’m off to train. Got to go earn my $3.