From the first moment my wife discovered
she had breast cancer, there was a deafening silence from the men I know. Even
ones whose wives, mothers or girlfriends had breast cancer seemed to have
received a gag order from some Central Cancer Command and did little more than
mumble about the experience. Not one to shut up for any known reason, I started
this blog…
Updated 5/26/2018
Updated 5/26/2018
I have been
“funding” for causes ever since I rode in my very first March of Dimes
Bike-a-thon in 1972. It was late spring, but the day we started it was snowing.
Not blizzarding; not blinding…but snowing.
I finished the
twenty-five-mile ride that had taken me around the Minneapolis lakes and out to
Anoka. As weary as I was, I realized that I was hooked.
I did a few more
of those, a couple of other “-a-thons” and then nothing really for several
years.
A dozen years ago,
my wife was diagnosed with Type-2 diabetes. I joined several bikes and walks,
and one summer, my son and I did the 45-mile bike for diabetes. We did that
twice, and one summer I did it alone. The next summer, my son invited me to
ride with him on a fund raiser against MS, as a friend of my wife’s passed away
because of it.
Then came breast
cancer seven years ago. There were no “doable” biking events for me then – I
was in no shape to do the Susan G. Komen bike-a-thons at the time, so for a
while I did nothing.
Five years ago, my
school district sponsored the Relay for Life and we finally “came out of the
closet”. We’d avoided it before then, though I’d been asked and we’d discussed
it. For whatever deep-seated reason, we didn’t feel ready to join the even. We
took the big step four years ago (http://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2014/05/guys-gotta-talk-about-2the-relay-for.html)
and then again two summers ago (http://breastcancerreaper.blogspot.com/2016/05/relay-for-life-2016-today.html).
The group of young people with whom we walked was vital and dedicated. It was
delightful!
Today, I will walk
again for the Robbinsdale Relay for Life
I have yet another
cause as well – Alzheimer’s. My father was diagnosed a few years ago, and now
the disease rears its hideous head on a daily basis. He lives in a memory care
unit, but the sad fact is that there is absolutely nothing that can be done for
him. Though undiagnosed, I think my mother suffered from it as well; though
with her other issues, I’m not sure if it was a cause or effect. I only that
know she’d been in a major fog for months before she passed in July of 2016.
Even as they have an impact on my own life, there were far too many “causes”;
far too many medical problems with events to raise money to fight for a cure.
While I’ve
recently started to feel a pressure of “can this go on?”, I also realize that
while we do in fact, live in the 21st Century and there are many
things we CAN do; there are still so many things we CAN’T do that it can seem
overwhelming…
The wife of a
pastor of mine once said, “It’s better to light a candle than to curse the
darkness.”
I pondered this
for many years, not really understanding it. Having just celebrated my 61st
birthday, I think I may have a handle on it: I will keep this blog rather than
start another. I only have so many candles and I’ve tended this one for the
past seven years. While it’s not comfortable, it’s a candle I now know well –
and it’s a candle that has truly pierced the darkness. I will keep lighting
this one for a long time to come.
THOUGHTS FROM THE RELAY:
It's cold...but the spirit here is warm! The people are warm, caring, and so full of energy and life -- it's weird because the thing that draws them together often leads to death.
The young people, so full of life, contrast so sharply with the images and stories of chemotherapy and the very real threat that cancer poses. Here now, there is the music, dogs, tents, food (lots of food!), laughter, and lots of "stuff". The wind blows wildly, knocking over tents and young people scramble after them.
While in hospital rooms around the world, men, women, children, teens, and young adults exhale their last breath and are gone.
This event not only flies in the face of the hundred cancers that plague even this 21st Century -- where kids speak across miles as if they were chatting with someone next to them -- but it celebrates the FIGHT; the only fight perhaps that deserves celebration.
I'm going now, but it's a night of life that perhaps few of these youngsters miss the significance of. I cannot miss the significance of it...
THOUGHTS FROM THE RELAY:
It's cold...but the spirit here is warm! The people are warm, caring, and so full of energy and life -- it's weird because the thing that draws them together often leads to death.
The young people, so full of life, contrast so sharply with the images and stories of chemotherapy and the very real threat that cancer poses. Here now, there is the music, dogs, tents, food (lots of food!), laughter, and lots of "stuff". The wind blows wildly, knocking over tents and young people scramble after them.
While in hospital rooms around the world, men, women, children, teens, and young adults exhale their last breath and are gone.
This event not only flies in the face of the hundred cancers that plague even this 21st Century -- where kids speak across miles as if they were chatting with someone next to them -- but it celebrates the FIGHT; the only fight perhaps that deserves celebration.
I'm going now, but it's a night of life that perhaps few of these youngsters miss the significance of. I cannot miss the significance of it...
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