When cancer first affected my life, I was too young to realize it. I was three years old when my Grandpa Bob passed away from lung cancer at a relatively young age. I was three years old when I lost the person who had taught me to play the piano, who was the reason I knew what the Yankees were, and who had the exact same Irish eyes as I have. I was three years old when I lost the person who was supposed to see my sister and I grow up, who was supposed to take care of my grandmother in her old age, and who was supposed to tell me all about my Irish descendants. But I was just three years old, and I had no idea.
It was years later, when I found my Mom crying downstairs, that I learned about the incredible man I had lost. She had found tapes of my Grandpa Bob’s voice, and we listened and cried for hours while she told me all about the person he had been. I had never seen my mother cry before. That was the first time that I truly understood what cancer could take away.
Since then, I have been confronted by cancer in so many ways. I don’t remember my Grandpa Bob’s funeral, but I vividly remember the funerals of two friends’ fathers who passed away from cancer. And I remember how much cancer affected their lives and the lives of those who loved them. I remember the day my Dad sat me down and told me that his own father, Grandpa Lind, was diagnosed with an aggressive form of skin cancer. I remember visiting my grandparents that same year and seeing for myself the effect that intense cancer treatment had on my grandfather. I remember eating hot dogs with him because it was the only food he could still taste. I remember hugging him harder every time I said goodbye, in fear of it being my last. I remember his smile and his conviction, and I remember the day that the doctors finally told him he was in remission. And lastly, I remember the day the cancer came back.
I remember, and so I Relay.
I Relay in memory of my Grandpa Bob, in celebration of my Meme’s triumph in her battle against non-hodgkins lymphoma (a cancer of the lymphatic system), in honor of my Grandpa Lind, and in hope of a cancer-less future. I Relay for missed times, for missed relationships, for missed hugs and for missed kisses. I Relay for all of my friends who have lost a parent or loved one to this awful disease.
I Relay in the hope of a future in which no one has to say or hear the words, “I have cancer”.
Cancer is an epidemic. This year alone there will be an estimated 1,685,210 new cases diagnosed and nearly 600,000 deaths in the US. Right behind heart disease, cancer is the leading cause of death in the United States. We cannot afford to stand by; we cannot afford to lose the fight. This is not an individual battle, it is a global movement, and we can all contribute. Join a Relay For Life team. Donate. Visit the American Cancer Page to learn more. Just don't be a passerby - step up and do something.
RelayLove,
Fundraising Co-Chair
