I'm sitting here working on the final details, details which, i'll admit, should have been done sooner. I'm working on scripts and a site map and logistics for the next 4 days. I'm preparing for a whirlwind starting at 6:00am tomorrow when I wake up the boys to get ready to go pick up yayapapa at the airport, and in my preparation I'm overcome with what this is all for.
Every year when we work on relay I get a little bit skewed in my thinking and it always takes something to slap me back in the reality of where we are. I always confuse the fact of my relaying FOR my dad into me thinking I'm relaying to save him. I know it's never been about that- clearly - but the emotions jumble things up in my head, and yesterday while I was working and so optimistic it took a country song about a brother who died in war to remind me (somehow...) that I'm relaying to save my dad and I won't be any closer to him on Sunday than I am today.
It brought back so much hurt. So much sadness, and so much grief. So many "but WHY" moments and just being overcome with a multitude of emotions. The bottom line is I lost my dad to a terrible disease after four years of a strong fight and it wasn't fair. I was 13. He was 41. It wasn't fair. I began to wonder if all of this effort was futile and then I remembered - it wasn't fair. It isn't fair. My journey with my dad's cancer is over, but that won't change the fact that it was never fair.
And I don't want another 13 year old girl to stand at her dad's funeral wondering why cancer took him too soon. I don't want another 41 year old man in the body of an 80 year old to take his last breath, knowing that while he was entering God's eternal presence he would not be able to witness, on this earth, the growing of his kids and grandkids. I don't want another family to walk the walk we did, no matter how much stronger it may have made us. I don't want that for anyone.
Then I began to think of the son of a high school classmate: a little precious boy, not much older than William, who was diagnosed with a brain tumor when he was 3. He fought bravely and strongly and he actually beat the cancer, but his body was tired and he was beat by something else. He died before he ever turned 4. I don't want another precious fighting life to be cut short at the hand of cancer. I don't want another mom to bury her baby because the doctors couldn't kill the cancer without killing her baby's immune system. I don't want another big sister to cry herself to sleep nightly because he misses her baby brother.
This effort is not futile. I am just one person, yes, and I can't cure cancer on my own. But I can work hard and make an effort to continue the fight that the American Cancer Society has taken on.
Margaret Mead said "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed it's the only thing that ever has".
Would you join us? We may be small but we can join together to be big. Would you join us? Think of us this weekend. Pray for us this weekend. And if you have it in you, visit
www.relayforlife.org/seasideca
and join our fight. You can find Team WTB and find Austin or me on there, or find any team or any team member. Give however you want! The impact you can have on a cancer patient and his/her family will never be a mistake.
So - for the last time from Seaside - thanks for your support and encouragement in this journey we took on in our time here. It's been hard and tiring, but it's been worth every sacrifice.
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