Relay for Life

If you ever have a chance to attend a Relay for Life event, I would highly recommend it. It’s not the best speaker you may ever hear or perhaps as entertaining as the most wonderful concert, but the people are worth listening too. What the Relay for Life is a platform for storytelling, for people who have walked through similar situations to walk laps together. One lap is for survivors, another for caregivers, a lap in silence for memories, a lap to celebrate the eventual defeat of cancer.

I think one of the thing about these events that always strikes me is that this is a moment of leveling. There are very young and very old, those who have been free of cancer for many years and those who are still fighting. But, everyone who walks the first lap of survival, everyone who walks the second lap of caregivers, everyone who walks for fundraising or just to show solidarity, they all have a story to tell. From the individual who is still feeling the effects of chemo or another prescriptive treatment, to the family and friends who have stood with another in the fight, they are all part. Relaying together, walking together, it is such a wonderful reminder that we are not alone in the fight. There are others who are walking on the track with us, others who have lost sleep with worry, who have undergone surgery, who have waited in the waiting room.
I love the signs you see when you walk in to the track. Reading left to right, you see Celebrate, Remember, Fight in bold and bright colors. I walked the track with my mom as part of the caregivers lap after watching my dad watch the survivors lap. I celebrate the days I have, I celebrate the medical research that has allowed him to still be here and part of my life. I celebrate the life lessons we have learned as a family. Not easy lessons to be sure, but good ones. I celebrate the friendships made, the hugs that have been shared. I celebrate that I can now walk with someone else through this and be a little more understanding, not just empathetic. I remember the look of my dad in the hospital. I remember when a lap around the hospital floor was a great victory. I remember the days of tears and worry. I remember the prayers that were shared, the phone calls and cards, e-mails and messages. I remember the friends and family who showed such amazing support. I remember capable nurses and doctors, home nurses and even nurse friends who leant their support and expertise. I have been part of the fight, fighting against infection by washing door knobs and phones. I have been part of the fight by demanding, sometimes on the verge of tears and fury that a positive attitude be kept. I have been part of the fight to demand of myself to be a help where I can.
Let’s Celebrate, Remember, and Fight Back – relay on together.

A Heart Condition

There was a lot of talk of blueberries on the trip, rich with antioxidants to allow the brain food it needs. There are lots of foods that are reputed to be good for the brain, good for the heart. Heart health is important, but there are a couple of different kinds of health that could be referred to under that heading. The physical heart, the muscle that pumps blood throughout the body is one. The emotional heart, as the seat of emotion, perspective, personality; that is another.

As I meet people in one location, and think of people I know in another location, I think of if the people in one spot would accept those in another. For instance, would the people I went to school with in college accept those who I work with or go to church with or befriend? Would those who have more than the surveyed norm accept others who have considerably less? Would those who have a different accent accept someone who sounds different, uses different terms of local vernacular?
Sometimes, I think we have a heart condition that makes us a little more reluctant to see beyond the initial differences. We grow stiff and established in our ways, set in our patterns until we find it hard to move and stretch, to encompass other things that seem new or different. What a wonderful heart condition it would be to have a wide open heart, to be careful and caring with each other, a heart condition of love.

Meant to Move

A few days after a trip, with a stormy night making yesterday feel even longer, about three o’clock in the afternoon I wanted to go home and go to bed, getting some sleep. Oh sleep!!! Where is my bed? Can I just lie my head down on a conference table someplace? A banana, nearly green like I like it, and a glass of water helped. But, I knew that when I got home from work that I would need to help mow. I don’t really mind mowing on days like yesterday, with a nice breeze and without it being very hot. In fact, it’s good exercise and thinking time.

Pulling into the driving, my head was set back against the headrest. The door opened, the warm air rushed in and I just sat there. Oh, I just want to sleep. Must change clothes, must put on tennis shoes…must go hug the pillow and curl up for a quick nap. The curling up lasted seconds, the mowing started. With a water bottle tucked into my pocket, I headed out to mow. At first, my feet were dragging along with my sheer force of being forced too. Continuing on it became easier, energy came even as the grass grew shorter.
We are meant to move. We gain energy with movement, exercise, exertion. It seems contrary and rest is certainly an important and necessary thing. Progressing along, stirring in our path, we are meant to move. Step out and let’s dance down the path, or at least make ourselves finish the mowing.

Re-Entry

Yesterday, I traded my tennis shoes for black heels, kaki cargo shorts for grey slacks, and a tank top for a blouse and jacket. Hair done, make-up done, heading out the door and to work. I could be in Kentucky! I found myself stating that several times throughout the day, mainly to myself and the computer. Well, more at the senders of whatever e-mail I was reading at the time. Really, I’m glad to be back. It is good to see my dad, pet the dogs, hug my bed, and soak in the bathtub. The fox was out yesterday morning and I loved watching her eat the sunflower seeds.

There is a little re-entry transition though. I need a little extra sleep, keep giving the doggies hugs, and have plants to plant. There are bills to pay and mail to read, laundry to fold and dishes to do. I could be in Kentucky! Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to readjust.

GPS

Yesterday it was a travel day from Kentucky back to Iowa, a long llloooonnnngggg day! It started at 8:15, and ended around 7:30 in the evening. Driving along, I noticed that many of the cars, vans, and trucks we passed had a GPS unit hanging on the dash. I can hear some of you saying that the map reading abilities of the younger generation are degrading as we read. But, I don’t want to get into that debate. Instead, as we traveled, I found my thoughts wandering in two different directions.

The first trail heads to the story make believe area of Eureka, the television show, and how the different mechanical things like cars and houses have personalities and artificial intelligences. In honor of the show, we were calling our GPS Sarah. When she was on, she offered helpful hints to turn this way or that, but at other times after trying to coach her into cooperating she would just be shut off. So, the first thought was along that line. I was imagining some evil genius mastermind, white lab coat included, which was somehow writing a master script that made all the GPS units take the cars hostage and go someplace specific. Where, I don’t know because that trail dead-ended about there.
The other trail that I found myself heading down was different types of Global Positioning Systems. Positioning, this could be physical location, spiritual location, mental or emotional location. A GPS that could help us map out where the others are at, to understand their thinking better. Wouldn’t that be such an enormous thing to see the trails our enemy or our friends are heading down, where they have already been. It wouldn’t quite be following Atticus Finch’s advice to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes, but it would be awfully close.
If I could see you mapped out, how might I see this world differently, how might you see me differently?