Yesterday my youngest daughter and I walked in the Susan G. Koman Race for the Cure. It was a beautiful day for a walk. But to be honest, I walked it in a fog. This year has seen a lot of death due to cancer for me. I find myself blocking memories, just stuffing down thoughts that try to reach the surface of my mind.
Several months ago, I blogged about two hats for two special women. They both have since lost their battles with cancer. Rachel was honored yesterday at the race. I purposely arrived late to avoid memories and tears at the presentation. I did see her son playing with other boys as I walked. Another moment when I quickly moved on to avoid the prick of pain.
The other hat was for my sister-in-law's sister, Lynette. She died of brain cancer a few months ago. I watched my sister-in-law struggle through sorrow at the funeral. She is the last family member. Her mother, father, brother and sister are all gone. She is a true orphan. Yet she has us, the Batman family. In fact, she has been a part of the family since I was a little girl. So in my mind, she's a full-fledged member, having been one of us almost as long as I have.
And just a month earlier, my other sister-in-law's mother died of brain cancer also. I watch her struggle with her grief every time we are together. Now a good friend at church is in the middle of chemo. It has been a difficult year. Cancer seems to be winning. So that is why the walk was so important for me this year. While I didn't let myself feel too deeply during it, I needed to make a stand, to make a statement to cancer. We will beat you, cancer!
So I walked, and I knit a scarf for the local knit shop to help raise money. I'm not so great at giving hugs and saying the right comforting words, but I'll do what I can. Walk and knit. Knit and walk.