One family's everyday celebration
SHELLY LEACHMAN, NEWS-PRESS STAFF WRITER
December 12, 2005 9:21 PM
Hanging out in the play room at his Santa Maria home, Grant Lima proclaims himself an "expert" at the card game UNO.
"I once beat someone twice in a row," he tells a new acquaintance. "So, are you up for a challenge?"
In about 15 minutes, Grant, 5, has outsmarted his opponent -- about three decades his senior -- and left her holding all the cards, which in UNO terms means she lost.
"I win!" declares Grant, his blue eyes shining bright against a canary yellow T-shirt. Blonde-haired mom Kristin Lima smiles wide, laughs and says cheerily to their guest, "You didn't know what you were getting yourself into, did you?"
Challenges are nothing new to Grant, who's overcome obstacles far bigger than card games. Diagnosed with neuroblastoma when he was just 21/2 years old, Grant's cancer today is considered "almost stable," said Ms. Lima.
Grant no longer receives chemotherapy, but he remains involved with the Teddy Bear Cancer Foundation, which his mother said is an emotional help for the whole family. The organization is one of two named as recipients of the annual News-Press Holiday Fund this year. It offers financial aid and moral comfort to families of pediatric cancer patients at Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital via cash grants, care packages, support groups and social events.
The Limas make frequent appearances at the group's gatherings, according to Ms. Lima, who said she finds solace in the company of families facing similar situations.
"When you're in a group of people and they all have that same 'kid with cancer,' you can forget about it for a while and not be characterized by that. Because you tend to be," she said. "Cancer. The 'C' word. It's horrible. Anybody who hears it says, 'That's horrible.' But you deal with it. You do it. You live every day and you celebrate every day."
The Limas have more to celebrate lately. Al though Grant's spinal tumor is still growing, it's at a rate so reduced that he no longer requires treatment -- only twice-yearly tests. The tumor will never go away, his mother said, but it may easily lay dormant forever.
"The tumor itself is now mature, which is equal to benign," she said. "(The doctors) think it'll just sit in his body."
What won't 'just sit' is Grant himself, who moves fast around his house, from an upended tub of Tinkertoys into his mom's lap for a quick hug, then out back with brother Derek, 3, to the two-story, multicolored clubhouse -- chutes, ladders and all -- built by father Gil, until mom calls them in from the cold.
Such ongoing activity is de rigueur at the Lima house, which Ms. Lima described as "Grand Central Station." In the space of two hours on a Tuesday evening, the family has several surprise visitors. A 16-year-old blonde girl who lives across the street drops in to hang out with the family. Another neighbor, who lives behind the Limas, stops by with her son to ask about Derek, who just had his tonsils out. And a couple who are longtime friends of the Limas pop over after a dinner out -- on their own anniversary -- just to say hello.
The constant buzz around the Limas' cream-colored, tree-surrounded house on a quiet North County street
is testament to the warmth that radiates from -- and within -- the family.
"Doesn't he look the picture of health?" Ms. Lima asks of Grant, her eyes watering, her voice faintly shaking on the last word. "It's awesome to see him this healthy and beautiful. He's my solid 55-pounder."
e-mail: sleachman@newspress.com