I walked in my first Relay for Life event tonight as a survivor, though I’m now three years into remission. I’m not certain why I waited. I suppose the tired excuse that I was too busy in year’s past is as good as any. But truthfully, that isn’t all. Standing there tonight, surrounded by so many people, all at various points on the broken road known as Cancer, I came to realize I had been avoiding it. To attend and participate was to visit a dark and scary time in my life, a time that seems so distant now. It never goes away, mind you, but it doesn’t occupy my every day, either. It’s there, like a dull, throbbing heartbeat, present always, but only noticed with focused attention. There’s some guilt, as well, though I’m not sure what purpose that serves. We all know someone who fought and lost; a life taken too young. There were probably a hundred plus survivors walking that first lap to start the event. People lined the track and applauded as our names were read and we walked by. I felt a lot of love but also a little guilt. Our accomplishment, after all, was simply living. Others fought just as hard and died. There were plenty of luminary candles lining the track as evidence of that sad reality. This feeling has nagged me for three years now and remains one I have yet to find the words to explain. We started the Relay with a prayer, of sorts. It was non-denominational and open to interpretation but perfectly fitting. While it was given, we stood there, with hands held and eyes closed, basking in the early evening sun. While listening, I made a conscious effort to feel the warmth of the sun on my face. I took in the collective spirit of my family around me and was as present in that moment as I could possibly be. I made the effort because I promised myself three years ago that I would. I promised that when I got better, I would make deliberate efforts to find and appreciate the good things around me each day. It’s a promise I keep more often than I break. The first lap was the survivor’s lap. On the second lap, the care-givers joined in, walking alongside the survivors just as they had been during the fight. I walked holding my wife’s hand in one of mine and sharing my kids’ hands in the other. I think it was the first time we all collectively thought of the not-too-distant past when our lives were turned upside down. I’m glad we don’t dwell on it daily, but I’m just as glad we shared that moment of reflection tonight. We’ll participate in Relays for Life in the future, but not just with a survivor’s lap. As the saying goes, “Been there, done that, got the t-shirt”. I actually did, by the way, get the t-shirt tonight– a bright purple shirt emblazoned with the battle cry to “Celebrate. Remember. Fight Back”. So, that’s exactly what we’ll do going forward. We’ll form a team for future Relays and it will be big and full of life. We’ll walk in pride of our victories and in honor of those lost. We’ll raise money to find a cure and we’ll celebrate life with each step we take. I hope you’ll join us. The road is long, but always made easier with someone at your side. Wayne McCormick 6/21/13
Posted on: Sat, 22 Jun 2013 04:13:04 +0000
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