The Pink Magnolia Club
Dear Readers,
I'd like to tell you how I came to write THE PINK MAGNOLIA CLUB.
In the fall of 2000, I read an article in the Fort Worth Star
Telegram about a wedding gown sale taking place that weekend
at a local hotel. What made this sale newsworthy was the non-profit
organization hosting the event.
Making Memories Breast Cancer Foundation is dedicated to providing
those with metastatic breast cancer a respite from the emotional
trauma of a terminal diagnosis by making possible a joyful, memorable
event with their families. In the tradition of the Make-A-Wish
Foundation, Making Memories helps families facing the loss of
a loved one to put reality aside--if only for a day--and enjoy
some of the precious time that remains. What caught my attention
and imagination was the manner in which the foundation funds
the wishes they grant. Making Memories solicits donations of
wedding gowns from women all across the country. They then host
events like the one being held that weekend with proceeds used
to fund the cancer patients' wishes.
I attended the sale. Imagine a hotel ballroom filled with rack
after rack after rack of wedding gowns. Thousands of gowns in
all sizes, all styles, everything from a hand-sewn gown made
in 1876 to never worn designer gowns donated on the Oprah Winfrey
show when the founder of Making Memories appeared as an "Angel
Network" honoree. The energy and excitement in the air was palpable
as brides and their mothers rifled the racks in search of that
perfect gown. As a pretty young woman modeled for her teary-eyed
father, the writer in me sensed real magic in the moment.
That afternoon I meet the founder of the Making Memories Breast
Cancer Foundation, Fran Hansen. She mentioned that donors often
include letters and pictures with their wedding gowns, and the
example she gave brought tears to my eyes:
Darnell Ramie was in the limo on the way to the church to be
married when she received a phone call summoning her to the hospital.
Upon her arrival, she learned that her groom had suffered a massive
heart attack. Her beloved Mark had died. She spent the hour she
was to have been married holding her groom's hand, he "dressed
so handsomely in his tuxedo and me, dressed in my wedding gown."
With that, I got my first glimpse of the very real and human
stories that are part of the tale of the Making Memories Breast
Cancer Foundation. I knew then that I had to write this story.
I traveled to Making Memories' headquarters in Oregon. There
I met Anna Nelson, the foundation's Wish Director, who shared
with me the story of a recent gift recipient. After seeing Fran
on Oprah, fourteen-year-old Lydia Bailey requested a wish for
her thirty-eight-year-old mother who was losing her fight with
breast cancer. The girl wrote:
"I would love to see my mother be able to just get away from
home for a few days, to be able to laugh, and her and my dad
enjoy themselves. She loves the water and beaches and lighthouses
are her favorite things."
Making Memories arranged a trip for the entire family to tour
lighthouses along the Oregon coast. Anna spoke of meeting the
Baileys and seeing firsthand both the joy of their "wish come
true" and the heartbreaking reality of a father and young children
facing the loss of the cornerstone of their family. She told
me of the bond she'd developed with the young girl who'd reached
out to the foundation on behalf of her mom and of the wrenching,
rewarding nature of her job for Making Memories. My passion for
this story deepened as I came to understand how much a Making
Memories wish can mean to suffering families.
Much of my time in Oregon was spent reading the letters--thousands
of them--that have been included with the dresses. I found myself
laughing over them and crying over them, sometimes both at the
same time. I read letters of hope and courage, of healing and
humor and faith and despair. I read letters from widowers and
children and mothers and daughters, from brides whose marriages
ended shortly after they were begun and from brides who had celebrated
their golden wedding anniversaries.
From my reading, I learned that the act of of donating a wedding
gown makes a memory, too. In addition to the monetary benefits
the sale of the gown will bring, the act of giving up such a
symbolic treasure often provides a sense of healing for the donor.
Letters told of special days shared by mother and daughter while
shopping for The Dress. One letter told of a daughter dying from
breast cancer who watched the Oprah show and asked her mother
to donate her wedding gown. Others spoke of divorce, one woman
writing how she would "take this dress to the post office
and let all the pain go, and smile while I visualize someone
else starting a new life like I will when I let this dress go."
I also found letters and thank-you notes from brides-to-be who
had purchased their gowns from Making Memories. One was from
a daughter whose mother had donated her own wedding dress in
memory of a breast cancer victim, not knowing her daughter hoped
to wear it when she married. The daughter bought her mother's
gown back and wore it as a surprise for her mom. The foundation
had given this family a truly wonderful memory.
My novel began to take shape. I knew it must be a story about
three women: the woman who donates her wedding gown, the woman
who buys it, and the woman whose wish will be partially funded
by the sale of the gown. I wanted to write about a friendship
that is formed when these women meet and how it transforms their
lives. I wanted to write about three generations of women--one
at the beginning of her adult life, another entering that emotionally
daunting stage of life, middle age, and the woman who is facing
the end of life with both grace and courage. And, because I am
a romantic at heart, I wanted to include the men in my ladies'
lives and give the book a happy ending.
This became the story of my heart. Over time, it became THE
PINK MAGNOLIA CLUB, a tale of friendship, the renewal of dreams,
and love reborn. I hope you enjoy it.
Geralyn |
