10 miles 1000 tears for Cancer

Becky has been my best friend since I moved out here 10 years ago. We talk on a daily basis and we share everything. In those years I have been there for her when she had her son, I hit the treadmill with her when she lost weight, I laughed with her, I talked with her, We have always been there for each other. But I don't remember a time when I saw Becky cry, that is until last night.

In the darkness of night with nothing to guide our paths but the soft glow of luminary markers my best friend and I held on to each other and cried. We cried, no we sobbed together. We said nothing, we just cried. Kevin joined us and the three of us stood there silently remembering those we had lost to Cancer and those who are still fighting their battles and those who have survived to celebrate one more birthday.

I knew yesterday that I was doing something that would deeply effect me. But I didn't understand the power of Relay For Life, until I spent a day walking the track. I didn't know the overwhelming emotion until I listened to their stories. I had no idea the compassion til I embraced those who walked with me. I hugged so many people. I listened to them, I REALLY listened to them. I felt like I was a part of something that was and is beyond myself. My words will fail me, but I will still try.

Our group was small. Becky, Kevin and his wife Danielle, Beth and her son Vince, Brittany, Anthony, Miranda, Bobby, Antowan and his friend. We were the small group from Anytime Fitness.  This was our first year so we were a little clueless. But we figured it all out. Becky and I made a "torch" out of things in our cars. You are supposed to have someone from your team walking at all times. That person is supposed to carry the torch. I think the torch should go to Beth. Beth was amazing. When I left at 12:30 a.m. she was on her 108th lap. Twenty-seven miles in twelve hours! I managed 10. My feet were blistered and moving was incredibly painful, but I was proud of what I had done. I am proud of what all of us did.

I was alright most of the day. I walked and talked and listened to the music. I may have even done a little dance. When they did the survivor lap I couldn't help the tears coming to my eyes. It wasn't until a woman came around the corner that the true impact hit me. She was an older woman. Her hair was grey and thin. Her eyes were tired but still she smiled. Her white survivor sash hung loosely over her Purple survivor shirt. Caregivers walked with her. One pushed her wheelchair while the other two walked by her side. She reminded me of my Grandma Kelly. There were couples walking together. Holding each other, some laughing, some crying, but all of them smiled because they were survivors. When the lap passed us I walked away and I sat by myself and I bawled. What I would give to have my Grandma there with a survivor sash on. But I don't know, you never know with Cancer!  I can hope and pray all I want that she will beat it. But Cancer plays by its own rules.

I walked the caregiver lap for my father-in-law. For the last 4 months of his life I was one of his caregivers. If you have never been a caregiver to someone who is dying from Cancer it is hard to explain, but another caretaker understands. I saw a woman walking with a man and his arm was holding her. I stopped next to her and I asked her if I could hug her. She willingly opened her arms and this stranger and I cried together. I may have been able to survive the rest of the lap if I hadn't seen my sister-in-law Tracy and my niece Meghan. Tracy's dad was my father-in-law. I embraced her and told her just how much I miss him and she told me how much she missed him too. She came to our tent and made a luminary bag for him and we put it along the path. Tracy only stopped for a moment, but it was a moment I will remember forever.

Some people had bags that stretched out in front of them like a wall of remembrance. We had a small wall, but every brick, every bag was a mountain of love. I made bags for my Grandpa Kelly who survived lung Cancer and lived another 25 years. When he left us in 2006 it wasn't the Cancer that took him. I made a bag for his wife, Grandma Kelly, who is still fighting the good fight. I made a bag for my father-in-law, Al Morse. He lost his battle with esophageal Cancer  in 2005. I made a bag for Grandpa Jim, he was Lexi's grandpa, he had lung Cancer that spread to his brain. We lost him in 2004. I made a bag for Beckett. She is a survivor. Thyroid Cancer couldn't dim her light. Becky made bags for her sisters who are both survivors. She made them for Aunts and cousins. Kevin made one for his dad. His dad passed away last year from prostate cancer.

When night fell we all gathered at the head of the track and we listened as two women told their tales. The tears danced down my cheeks and down my neck. I chose not to wipe them away, they would just keep coming. I happened to look over and see Kevin standing there. He was so still so quiet but I realized he was crying. I wrapped my arms around him and held him until the luminary lap began. They turned out all the lights at the track and the only things guiding us were the small white bags with the names and faces of those we love and have loved glowing softly. So many names, so many lives, memories, stories, so very many tears.

That was when I saw my best friend cry.