Relay for Life

A while back my friend Heidi asked Angela and I if we'd be willing to volunteer for the Burbank Relay for Life event. I left the request sitting in my inbox for a full day before responding. During that day Angela and I talked about whether or not we were up for it. We worked the Autoimmune walk last fall with Heidi and we knew it wouldn't be a big deal, not at all. Except...it would be. We haven't done a cancer walk in a while. Not since Marilyn, Mom #2, passed away from cancer. Eventually we just moved on and said, sure, of course.

Last Saturday morning dawned bright and early. Angela and I had the seven a.m. shift so we got to the park in Burbank about 6:30. The morning went quickly. We helped set up, problem solve, get people registered. It was actually a lot of fun. I love customer service in this way, helping people out, and things went very smoothly. The Relay people, Heidi in particular, are on point! 

But then a couple of things happened. And I found myself not really regretting my decision to help, not at all actually, but thinking how hard this was. For just a split second. We've done the Revlon Walk to fight cancer several times. This was before Grandpa Jim and Marilyn passed away. We walked for them. But Saturday was different.

Survivors' Walk

Before we even had our registration materials set up we had a visitor to the tables. He wanted to donate. Didn't want to walk, didn't want to register, didn't need a receipt, just wanted to support the fight. We thanked him profusely. I watched as this man, who was clearly homeless, with what I'm guessing were all of his worldly possessions on his back, pulled out a battered wallet stuffed with papers, dug around, and pulled out two dollar bills. He handed them to us, thanked us for our work, and moved on. It was barely seven o'clock and I could hardly hold back the tears. People like him make me believe in God, in goodness, in love. 

The first part of the actual walk that we saw was the survivor's walk, when all of the cancer survivors walk the track in their purple t-shirts. Some had capes on (superhero theme!). Some were aided by caregivers. Some were just full of smiles and waves. This made me smile and cheer but for a moment also reflect. It's hard when your survivor isn't a survivor anymore. 

Our friend Tom & his band
performing

But there was more work to do. Part of our volunteer duties included getting all of the volunteers registered and so many of them were teens which was awesome. We had a lot of kids from this particular organization and Angela asked them what their bracelets meant.

A young girl gave a very succinct and so-well spoken answer: two years ago their classmate had been diagnosed with bile duct cancer. Her and her friends went about fundraising for his treatment and to help find a cure. Their friend died two months later. But she said they were determined not to forget him and to help other kids fight cancer. I had to physically push the tears back in my eyes when she walked away from the table.

Ang playing a dice game
to raise money

Heidi watching as the little
girl's ponytail is cut off

All in all, Saturday was more pleasure than pain. It was a beautiful sun-filled day that wasn't too hot. I met so many sweet, caring, helpful people. I laughed at the people who just wanted one more free tote bag. Having never been to a Relay event before we got to witness the rituals: the beads being strung on lanyards for every lap walked, the tents being assembled for families who would spend the night, the kids selling painted rocks and homemade treats in an effort to help fight this disease. We walked around and around the track. Listening, watching, playing games with the teens, smiling at the babies in strollers, congratulating the people who've beaten cancer time and time again. We walked over five miles and when the sun grew very warm and hunger set in, I had to pull myself away from the track. It was hard to turn away. Hard to think what could have been. 

We watched a little girl get her ponytail cut off for Locks of Love, and people donating for her to do it. We watched people sing and laugh and hug. We watched as survivors hugged their families as we can no longer do with our survivors. But...

I have faith that one day cancer will be banished from our lives forever. There will be no need for Relays or Walks or any of this. That these amazing people I saw on Saturday will have fought the good fight, won the war, we will have funded and found a cure, we will have beaten it. 

But until then...We walk. We volunteer. We roll dice. We raise money. WE FIGHT.