01/26/2026
TWENTY YEARS WE HAVE COME FULL CIRCLE
Dear Friends of the Ready or Not Foundation,
For the most significant moments in our lives, we are often asked a simple question :
“Where were you when it happened?”
Those moments force us to reflect on a specific moment in time that impacted us. They remind us that sometimes fate nudges—no, pushes—us to yield to roads we never planned to take. That life can be altered by inches and seconds is probably one of the universe’s most accurate adages.
Twenty years ago today—January 26, 2006—began like so many mornings before it. I was six months into rebuilding life after a divorce, raising five children as a single mother, relying on a village that only the Canales Clan could provide. Three schools, multiple drivers, endless coordination—and endless love.
I went to work that morning and was on my way to a lunch meeting downtown when I received the call—the one that would change our lives forever. It was a good story born from a favorite childhood game, an astute school nurse and evidence of good bump on my youngest daughter’s head; but at the root of it all, a tree that would ultimately save her life.
IWA Elementary was, and remains, a special place for so many families with their personal connections. Storybook buildings, faith-based learning with nuns dedicated to the education of young children, fall festivals and spaghettis dinners and at its center lay a playground wrapped around a towering oak tree. In that era, this school was my true solace—one place that felt perfect and safe for my children and for me.
Do you believe in angels someone recently asked me ?
I do. And one was present that morning.
As Jackie played hide-and-go-seek on the playground that morning, she accidentally struck her head against that oak tree to avoid the “tag”. What followed now feels surreal: my sister-in-law— a new pediatrician—Driscoll Children’s Hospital situated on the same street as the school , a precautionary CAT scan “just to be sure,” and then the walk into a small room where the news was delivered, the discovery of the unexpected, the unthinkable, a large brain tumor.
Everything moved so fast—yet today I remember it all in slow motion. The whirring sounds of the MRI still trigger me to this day. The smell of the elevator still recognizable and the starkness of the white walls memorized, but most of all: The physical, and mental weight of the words no parent is prepared to hear heavy, so heavy on my heart.
I remember Jackie walked into Driscoll Children’s Hospital on her own from the skywalk that afternoon with me hand in hand for that brain scan with the promise of Marble Slab afterwards. And for nearly twenty years, she and I have been walking in and out of hospitals ever since.
Today—almost to the minute—twenty years later, she will walk through those doors again.
BUT This time, as a Driscoll Children’s Hospital volunteer.
This day wasn’t planned. In fact, she’s been trying for what feels like forever to return to the place where it all began in a professional capacity; but it just had not been in the cards until now. She wanted to return this time to give back: to bring her special ‘Jackie magic’ to children facing illness of all kinds. A magic only she has, as one who has walked this journey often possesses. A skill no résumé can capture. No degree or certification can explain it.
You don’t receive a piece of paper that says SURVIVOR—but maybe you should. Maybe that’s the most important skill after all: truly to appreciate living .
The strangest part? Jackie missed her original volunteer orientation due to missing paperwork. Her orientation then moved to late last week and subsequently her start date was rescheduled. Randomly. And it landed today, at this exact hour. Coincidence . Maybe . Jan 26 2026. All I know, is today I needed to say my prayers and remind myself.
Miracles do happen.
Angels are among us.
And Jackie is a testament to both.
For the past twenty years, I have committed my life to raising funds and awareness for pediatric cancer research—it was my therapy: a way to deal with what happened and to make sense of something that still makes no sense to me .. children with tumors in their brain given toxic remedies that are often the cause of their lifelong health afflictions. Children are given the same protocols… Some make it, while others don’t. I have yet to meet a parent that doesn’t try everything to save their child .. What started out as anger and confusion as to “why?” has over time evolved into peace and gratitude that our village was spared the outcome so many families face with a malignant pediatric brain cancer diagnosis.
It all began on 1.26.06 at Driscoll, and it is only fitting that on this day, at this hour, Jackie is battle tested a warrior with empathy and love only a child granted life after a terminal diagnosis can truly understand.
To everyone who has touched her life—and to all who carried us through this twenty-year journey: the nurses, doctors, therapists, teachers, advocates, fellow survivors, friends, and family—please know we hold you in our hearts with endless gratitude.
The journey was not easy.
And in so many ways, it continues.
But your prayers were heard.
A child we were not sure would live to see the second grade has grown into a strong, beautiful, unapologetically tough and determined woman—and you helped raise her.
The cure is out there and in the memory of so many who have lost their battle, we will be READY to continue our quest for Jackie Black’s Search to End Brain Cancer .
As we say in our house: TE AMO,
Barbara
