1000 Cranes: The Moffitt Trip
So, I recently had the chance to drop off some art supplies to Moffitt Cancer Center, and wow, it hit me in a way I didn’t expect. This place? It’s where Sunshine first got introduced to the Arts in Medicine program. She totally fell in love with it, and once she was in remission, she came back to volunteer. She used to tell me all the time how amazing the program was—she’d share stories about the other artists there, their unique talents, and how they used art to help patients feel better.
I’ve heard so much about Moffitt over the years, but walking in there for the first time was a little surreal. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it wasn’t what I imagined at all. The space felt alive in a way that was calming and just right—like it was made to help people heal, body and soul. It was kind of like stepping into the art room where Sunshine and I first met all those years ago. The same energy. The same warmth. It felt like I could just pick up a brush and start creating, just like we used to.
And standing there, looking around at all the artwork in progress, I could almost feel Sunshine’s presence. It was like she was right there with me, smiling and nodding, happy that the donation was going to a place that meant so much to her. I couldn’t help but notice the origami cranes hanging in the corner. I remembered how I’d tried to make one for her—well, 1000, actually. I never made it past one though. But in that moment, seeing those cranes hanging there, I couldn’t help but smile, thinking that maybe she was up there, watching me, proud that I even tried.
Dropping off those supplies wasn’t just about the donation—it was more like a quiet moment to remember how much of an impact Sunshine made, not just at Moffitt but in everything she did. I can just picture her, so proud of this program, knowing it was making a difference. It made me smile, thinking about how much she would’ve loved to see how far it’s come.
It was just one of those moments that reminded me how powerful art really is. It’s not about being perfect or even creating something beautiful—it’s about connecting, healing, and sometimes laughing.
