ABOUT US

My daughter, Elyssa Bourne was born on July 17, 1998, weighing only 1 pound, 12 ounces in a hospital in Queens. From the moment she arrived, she was a fighter. She spent her first four months in the hospital, and when I finally took her home, she was just four pounds—a tiny miracle in my arms.

She grew into a compassionate, articulate young woman, her spirit as resilient as her beginnings. But in early 2012, she began to complain of pain, stiffness, and tenderness in her right thigh. After numerous tests, doctors diagnosed her with Ewing’s sarcoma, a rare and aggressive soft tissue cancer, affecting her right femur.

On Valentine’s Day in 2012, she underwent her first surgery to remove the tumor, along with a part of her thigh bone, followed by 11 rounds of grueling chemotherapy. She was bedridden at home for six months, yet even through the hardest days, her spirit remained unbreakable.

Against all odds, she returned to school, graduated high school with honors, and enrolled at the University at Albany, majoring in Communication and Women’s Studies. But in her senior year, during a routine MRI, doctors found a new spot on her thigh. The cancer had returned. She went through weeks of daily radiation and chemotherapy in Somerset, New Jersey, and even after returning to college, she commuted three times a week to receive chemotherapy in Albany.

Then the pandemic hit. Like so many others, she completed her final semester online and earned her Bachelor of Arts, graduating magna cum laude. Though she couldn’t attend her graduation in person, she was immensely proud of her diploma. Determined to pursue her dreams, she enrolled in a master’s program, ready to take on the world. But shortly after, the cancer came back for a third time. She faced more chemotherapy and a surgery to replace her hip, femur, and knee. This time, she was bedridden for five months.

Despite everything, she was determined to live fully. She found an apartment in Manhattan, picked out furniture, and planned to move in September 2023. But during a physical therapy session, her knee gave away, breaking due to the weakening bone. Surgery revealed that the cancer had spread to her lungs and spine.

Even in her final days, she never allowed herself to cry or feel defeated. Her faith gave her peace. She would say, “God gives us a time limit to live,” reminding me how courageously she embraced her journey.

My beautiful daughter passed away on July 8, 2024, nine days shy of her 26th birthday. She left us a legacy of love, resilience, and selflessness. In her honor, I am starting this nonprofit organization to help other cancer patients. Going through her belongings, I discovered she had been donating monthly to GoFundMe campaigns for cancer patients in need. Her quiet acts of generosity moved me deeply, and I am committed to continuing her legacy.

This nonprofit will provide financial and emotional support to cancer patients facing hardships, just as she would have wanted. Through this work, I hope to extend the light she brought to my life, and to countless others, in her journey of unshakeable strength and compassion.