Welcome to Our PanCAN PurpleStride Team Fundraising Page!

Our team wants to make the biggest impact on the lives of pancreatic cancer patients – and we need you to do it!

We’re taking steps at the ultimate walk to end pancreatic cancer, PanCAN PurpleStride, on Saturday, April 26, 2025.

PurpleStride participants raise money to fund vital research that can bring new treatment options to patients; free, personalized, one-to-one support through PanCAN Patient Services; and more.

Ann Legnetti, My Mother

My mother was a beautiful woman inside and out. She was the type of friend who would talk to you for hours on the phone twirling her hair in bed, laugh until she cried with you, and was always there for you in every aspect of life. 

She was the type of wife who would rush home after work to make sure everything was taken care of, make my father laugh with her quirky little dances and voices around the house, go everywhere and anywhere with him, take care of him whenever he'd get hurt (which was very often), and loved him since she was 16. She stood by his side through everything and anything.

She was the type of mother who would repeat herself a thousand times because she loved me so much, make me laugh until my stomach hurt because she was so cute and absolutely hilarious, build me up when others tried to tear me down, sit and cried with me when someone hurt me to the core, and came anywhere and everywhere with me—to support me, be by my side, and just let me know she was always there.

She loved everyone and anyone who came across her path with a passion, she was always kind - there wasn't a mean bone in that body. She was beautiful, gentle, compassionate, empathic, and truly one of the best women to walk this earth. She will forever be the greatest thing to ever happen to me and will forever be my best friend. I wish we had more time - to laugh, cry, travel, and celebrate life together. I love you forever and miss you even more.

My Mothers Diagnosis 

My mother was diagnosed in April 2022 after feeling discomfort for a few days in her stomach and back. She noticed the pain while sitting at work and called her doctors immediately. The doctors, unfortunately, continued to push off her appointment as we were still in Covid operating times. Instead of waiting due to the amount of pain she was enduring, we decided to take her to our local hospital. When we arrived at the ER, we were taken back to a private room where they began taking the proper steps to see why my mother was in discomfort. My mother was given a variety of scans and the doctor later informed my mother that they found a mass on her pancreas and liver and that they believed it to be cancer due to the size. My mother had been aware of growths that were present but her doctor informed her that because they were so small that there "was no point in a biopsy". She had notebooks filled from every doctor's appointment, noting the size, if any new growths appeared, etc. She was always an advocate for herself and everyone around her. Due to the growths forming into large masses, she would need to go through further testing to conclude. 

The masses had doubled in size since her last appointment (3 months earlier) and for the next two weeks, my mother was admitted, walked through the next steps, and tried to stay as strong and positive as she could. My father and I were there every morning once visiting hours started until the end of the night when visiting hours concluded. I had her walking every day on her floor, trying to make her comfortable, and decorating her room to make her feel more "at home" even though that was quite impossible. These two weeks were honestly the most stressful and painful two weeks of our lives. Not having my mother home was a dagger to the chest. 

The hospital was slow to tell her what her actual diagnosis was, instead numerous oncologists continued coming into the room and all my mother did was cry. It was not until a family friend who was a nurse at the hospital read over her paperwork for us, and looked at us with tears heavily present in her eyes. "This is saying it's metastatic stage 4 cancer - why aren't they telling you this? How could they not tell you this" - my father and I broke down at that moment but tried to remain strong for my mother. We will always love and appreciate Heather for loving, supporting, and taking care of my mother in a moment that was extremely earth-shattering.

We later offically found out that my mother had been diagnosed with Stage 4 Pancreatic Cancer. I will never forget that moment because she looked at me through her tears and said "It's what Patrick Swazee had - Jenn this isn't going to be good. I don't want to die". My heart shattered into a million pieces at that very moment. There were no methods for early detection, the doctors weren't monitoring those small growths as they should have, and to be honest, weren't taking them as seriously as they should've. These small growths had turned into something that none of us thought was possible.

Eventually, we began her treatment through MSK in New York and Holmdel where she tried numerous studies, chemo, and radiation. My mother fought hard, cried hard, and loved harder. Ultimately the treatments and prescriptions were extremely tough on her and she lost her 6 month battle on October 4th, 2022. The in-betweens are a lot to share but what I can tell you is that I would do anything to fight for a world where no family has to endure that pain that we have. We love her, we miss her and we wish she had a better chance at beating this horrible disease. 

Rest in Peace Mommy, I miss you and I love you. Forever and Always. Thank you for making my life meaningful for 28 years and thank you for making me your entire world. You will forever be my greatest gift.