My dad called me last week. He calls me every time there's "some sort of weather", as he would put it. Having just pulled in the driveway from being at the gym, all I wanted was to get inside and get a shower. When he said my stepmother had some news, I could tell from his tone of voice that she hadn't won the lottery.
"They found something on my last mammogram. The biopsy results came back. I have DCIS."
My stepmother has breast cancer.
The words 'early' and 'non-invasive' were mentioned, and while I know that those are both good terms considering what we're talking about, I can't escape the fact that my stepmother, one of my best, closest friends for the past 16 years, has breast cancer.
For the most part, both she & I have received a tremendous outpouring of love & support. Prayers, good vibes, thoughts, offers to talk and listen have tumbled in. And yet, the one comment that continually sticks out to me is one from someone I've never met who said, "Well now your fight against breast cancer is personal."
Really? Just now? It wasn't personal before? Because I wasn't aware of that fact.
Maybe I've been remiss in sharing my story, so please allow me to give you the Reader's Digest version:
A little over 3 years ago, I watched my friend & coworker, Patty, start to turn in to someone I no longer recognized. She began coming in to work later and later, made glaring mistakes on reports, and would get easily confused. After calling her husband one day when we found her sleeping in her office, Patty's doctors discovered that the breast cancer they had thought she had been clear of for 5 years had metastasized to her brain. She began suffering seizures, went through test after test after test, and even had brain surgery to remove the mass. In the end, none of it worked. She passed away the week before Christmas that year, leaving behind 3 children and a husband. She was 47.
My godmother, Aunt Joan, has beat breast cancer twice. The last time was about a year and a half ago. She had two types in the same breast. After undergoing a mastectomy, her options for radiation were limited. She was very close to having already received the maximum amount allowed for a lifetime. Through much research, and refusing to take no for an answer, she is now cancer free. But she's not the same woman she used to be. She gets very tired very easily. She doesn't enjoy traveling like she used to. I won't go so far as to say that she's given up, but she's certainly giving in. Some days, I think I'm more bothered by that than if she would have passed away.
My fight against breast cancer has been personal from Day One.
But let's say that I didn't know anyone with breast cancer. Let's say that I was fortunate enough to not have lost someone to breast cancer. Would that make my efforts any less important or any less personal that someone else? Would that mean that I was participating in this for reasons with less meaning than others?
Don't allow someone else to tell you that your fight isn't personal. If you have the passion to fight breast cancer and the drive to participate in something like The 3 Day, I'm proud to stand next to you, no matter what your reasons are.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
If I Can Do It...
I was on the phone with my dad last night, telling him about being picked to be a Komen 3 Day Ambassador. And while he thought it was great & he's very proud of me, he asked me a very good question: What will you say when asked about The 3 Day?
The biggest point I came up with was this: If I can do it, you can do it.
When I was trying to decide whether or not to register for my first 3 Day in January of 2010, I had what I would come to learn were a lot of misconceptions about the type of person who walks The 3 Day. I mean, it's 60 miles. That's intense! And thus, it takes an intense person... a person who competes in triathalons, runs marathons, and all other kinds of -thons. It's full of people who live on health bars that taste like cardboard... skinny, super healthy, I can count your six pack abs kind of people. I felt like passing out at 3 miles, and then again when I reached 7. 10 miles? 18 in one day?! Forget it. That's not something I can do.
I was very wrong.
Not long after we left opening ceremonies, walkers were detouring in to Burger King, Dunkin' Donuts and Starbucks. I saw one lady pull a bag of Cheetos out of her backpack. We chowed down on candy in the sweep vans (I highly recommend Nerds!) Some walkers made it to the first pit stop and then hopped in a sweep van to lunch. Apple pie and brownies were served at camp! My 2x tshirt wearing self was in very good company in the crowd of 1800+ walkers.
I've made a conscious effort since I signed up for last year's 3 Day to be healthier. I joined a gym, I eat healthier, I drink water instead of soda. But I will still tear up some fried chicken, macaroni & cheese, mashed potatoes, red velvet cake... you get the picture. You're not gonna see me on a beach in a bikini playing volleyball. I'll be sitting on a lounge chair, drinking a pina colada.
None of that makes me any less intense than the type of person I originally thought walked The 3 Day. I'm just intense in a different way. I am no less passionate about my goal of walking 60 miles and raising as much money as possible for Komen because I'm not an uber-athlete.
I know that as a first-timer, it all seems like a very daunting mountain to climb. $2300 is a lot of money to raise. 60 miles is a long way to walk. I'll let you in on a secret: I never believed I could do it. It wasn't until that last penny was in my 3 Day account that I believed I could raise the money. It wasn't until I set foot in to camp at the end of Day 1 after walking every single step that I believed I could do it. I crossed the finish line with the help of some vans & buses, and that's okay.
If you have the passion to help, to be part of the cause and the cure, that's all you need. Yes, you will get overwhelmed. Yes, you will wonder if you've lost your mind... and so will other people. But if that voice is inside you telling you that you need to do this, listen to it. Sign up for The 3 Day. You can walk next to me and we'll compare the different methods there are to fry chicken.
For more information on The 3 Day, please visit: The3Day.Org
And if you're one of my Blockhead/New Kid family members, I highly encourage you to join or donate to Team Betty in one of the cities listed below:
Boston
San Diego
Seattle
Tampa
If you don't see a 3 Day near you listed, form your own Team Betty!
The biggest point I came up with was this: If I can do it, you can do it.
When I was trying to decide whether or not to register for my first 3 Day in January of 2010, I had what I would come to learn were a lot of misconceptions about the type of person who walks The 3 Day. I mean, it's 60 miles. That's intense! And thus, it takes an intense person... a person who competes in triathalons, runs marathons, and all other kinds of -thons. It's full of people who live on health bars that taste like cardboard... skinny, super healthy, I can count your six pack abs kind of people. I felt like passing out at 3 miles, and then again when I reached 7. 10 miles? 18 in one day?! Forget it. That's not something I can do.
I was very wrong.
Not long after we left opening ceremonies, walkers were detouring in to Burger King, Dunkin' Donuts and Starbucks. I saw one lady pull a bag of Cheetos out of her backpack. We chowed down on candy in the sweep vans (I highly recommend Nerds!) Some walkers made it to the first pit stop and then hopped in a sweep van to lunch. Apple pie and brownies were served at camp! My 2x tshirt wearing self was in very good company in the crowd of 1800+ walkers.
I've made a conscious effort since I signed up for last year's 3 Day to be healthier. I joined a gym, I eat healthier, I drink water instead of soda. But I will still tear up some fried chicken, macaroni & cheese, mashed potatoes, red velvet cake... you get the picture. You're not gonna see me on a beach in a bikini playing volleyball. I'll be sitting on a lounge chair, drinking a pina colada.
None of that makes me any less intense than the type of person I originally thought walked The 3 Day. I'm just intense in a different way. I am no less passionate about my goal of walking 60 miles and raising as much money as possible for Komen because I'm not an uber-athlete.
I know that as a first-timer, it all seems like a very daunting mountain to climb. $2300 is a lot of money to raise. 60 miles is a long way to walk. I'll let you in on a secret: I never believed I could do it. It wasn't until that last penny was in my 3 Day account that I believed I could raise the money. It wasn't until I set foot in to camp at the end of Day 1 after walking every single step that I believed I could do it. I crossed the finish line with the help of some vans & buses, and that's okay.
If you have the passion to help, to be part of the cause and the cure, that's all you need. Yes, you will get overwhelmed. Yes, you will wonder if you've lost your mind... and so will other people. But if that voice is inside you telling you that you need to do this, listen to it. Sign up for The 3 Day. You can walk next to me and we'll compare the different methods there are to fry chicken.
For more information on The 3 Day, please visit: The3Day.Org
And if you're one of my Blockhead/New Kid family members, I highly encourage you to join or donate to Team Betty in one of the cities listed below:
Boston
San Diego
Seattle
Tampa
If you don't see a 3 Day near you listed, form your own Team Betty!
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Reacting
I locked my keys in my car over the weekend. I was parked in front of the shed where we store all our food for homeless outreach. All of the food for that week that had just been picked up? You guessed it. Still inside my car. My keys were in plain sight on the front seat. My friend, John, looked inside with me, then at me. He headed for the antenna to unscrew it while I headed to the other shed to grab screwdrivers. We were a good five minutes in to prying the top of the car door open enough to slide the now bent antenna in to hit the unlock button before John's wife, Ruthie, even noticed anything was going on.
"What do you mean you locked your keys in your car?!" Ruthie's eyes went wide.
"Exactly what I said. They're on the front seat." We popped the screwdrivers out of the driver's side door and moved to try the passenger side.
"But you're so calm about it. I never would have known you l0cked your keys in your car." Ruthie moved to block the sun for us so we could see.
"Doesn't do any good to get excited over it. Nothing I can do except try to get the car unlocked." And with that, the antenna hit the unlock button, letting me in to my car so I could unload all the boxes of food.
Too often, we react in a way that's not going to help the situation. We panic, cry, scream, jump up and down, when all we really need to do is stay calm for five minutes, do a little work, and things are back to normal.
Choose carefully how and what you react to.
"What do you mean you locked your keys in your car?!" Ruthie's eyes went wide.
"Exactly what I said. They're on the front seat." We popped the screwdrivers out of the driver's side door and moved to try the passenger side.
"But you're so calm about it. I never would have known you l0cked your keys in your car." Ruthie moved to block the sun for us so we could see.
"Doesn't do any good to get excited over it. Nothing I can do except try to get the car unlocked." And with that, the antenna hit the unlock button, letting me in to my car so I could unload all the boxes of food.
Too often, we react in a way that's not going to help the situation. We panic, cry, scream, jump up and down, when all we really need to do is stay calm for five minutes, do a little work, and things are back to normal.
Choose carefully how and what you react to.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Update on Bobbette
Before I get in to the update on Bobbette's health and our search to find her a new kidney, I'd like to let you read some words from Bobbette herself. She posted this on her Caring Bridge page last night and has asked me to copy it to this blog.
"Hey all, it's Bobbette here. Just a little note to let you all know what is going on right now. I go back to the doctor tomorrow to see the Nephrologist, but as of right now I am still holding my own. My kidneys are functioning at 6 percent right now, still no yellow in my fingertips or eyes. Really about the only thing that is bothering me right now is still the swelling and I am tired a lot. Things are going well though, still working and feeling well for the most part. With all of that being said we do have great news; I have been informed that they have found 3 positive matches (Abbie's note: After this posting we were notified of 3 additional matches). God is the greatest and He does work in mysterious ways.
I would like to thank everyone for the prayers, thoughts, and well wishes. This all has been a little overwhelming to me but please know that it touches my heart way beyond anything that I could have ever imagined. My family and friends are the best. I would like to say I love you to my Blockhead family. You all are amazing and I pray I get to meet so many more of you soon. To my sister Annette, I know I drive you crazy but thank you so much for everything you have sacrificed over the years and for everything you continue to do for me. I do love you. My best friend Abbie aka my chicken:-) I don't know what I would do without you, my partner in crime. Whether its been two weeks or two months since we have seen each other--- you are the greatest friend ever. Donnie Wahlberg - I could never have imagined the love and support you have shown for me, or for any of your fans. You let us know that you do care and we do matter, even if its hard for us to see sometimes. I absolutely adore you and will never forget our meeting in June of last year. Simply saying thank you for all you have done just doesn't seem like enough. God Bless you and your family.
I am gonna go for now, will let you all know more tomorrow when I get out of the doctor. Love and God Bless
Bobbette"
Anyway you look at this, miracles have happened. Most people struggle to find one kidney to match. As of right now, Bobbette has 6 kidney matches. None of the matches are family members or close friends. They are all strangers with hearts of a size I cannot even begin to imagine. More on that in a moment.
The next step is unfortunately not transplant. There is one more series of tests to be run. It will start with the person who is the best possible match for Bobbette. It is an extensive battery of tests, which includes blood work, a psychiatric evaluation, and a tube match. If the donors tubes do not match well enough with Bobbette's, they will need to move on to test the next person on the list. If the tests run as smoothly as we're praying they will, Bobbette could very likely receive her kidney transplant no later than the end of February.
Because some of the potential donors have asked to remain anonymous to people outside of our very small inner circle, we will not be revealing any of their names. A few of them have made it public that they are matches, and that's fine. However, Bobbette and her family and friends will not be revealing names. Should the person who ends up donating their kidney wish to make their identity public, we will do so at that time.
Another major thing has happened in the midst of all of this. On Christmas morning, Bobbette's boyfriend, Matt, proposed to her... and she said yes!
Neither Bobbette nor any of us close to her could have ever imagined an outpouring of love and support like the one we have received. We are beyond blessed to be in this situation. I know that may sound weird, considering that we're fighting for Bobbette's life, but if you can't find beauty in the struggle and the hard times, you'll never truly appreciate when things are going good. But I'm hoping that this grace does not end with doing something for Bobbette. There are so many people out there who need organ transplants. If you did not match for Bobbette, maybe you will match for someone else. If you don't have the opportunity to be a living donor, please consider sharing the gift of life and donating your organs when your life is done.
Thank you doesn't seem to be a big enough phrase. I love all of you who have read these words, but even that doesn't begin to cover the gratitude in my heart. And to one Mr. Donnie Wahlberg, it is with an amazed and grateful heart that I wish God to bless you, as well as your 4 NKOTB brothers. I'm sure when the 5 of you reunited, you never imagined you'd be saving lives, but you have. I'll be bringing Bobbette to see you on June 21 at the Nashville show. You bring the hugs, I'll bring the Kleenex, Bobbette will bring the kidney.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Saving Bobbette - Donate Life
As some of you know, my best friend of eleven years, Bobbette, is facing a kidney transplant. This her not her first organ transplant. She received a liver transplant at the age of 3. Her parents were told that she MIGHT live to be 7. She is now 30. Unfortunately, the medications she has taken during her lifetime to keep her liver functioning have destroyed her kidneys.
We are now beginning the search for a kidney donor for Bobbette. A living donor is her best option. A kidney from a living donor will last twice as long as one from a cadaver. With this being said, we were also informed that at her young age, this will be one of two kidney transplants that she will be facing in her lifetime. A kidney transplant is only a method of treating kidney disease, not a cure. We were told by Margot Chaffin, RN, BSN (Bobbette's transplant coordinator at Vanderbilt) to "open the gates," to ANY and ALL potential donors. The best way I know how to do that is word of mouth. And those of you who know me know that I have a very loud mouth when I need to get a point across.
While we do not have all of the criteria for a potential donor, I'm going to give an overview of what was explained to her. Any questions you have after that, her sister, Annette, will be happy to assist with at the following email address: Donate4JBM@gmail.com. She will probably be referring you to Vanderbilt University Medical Center's toll free # for donors: 1-866-748-1491 (you will pick option 3).
DONORS HAVE NO FINANCIAL RESPONSIBILITY. THE RECIPIENT'S INSURANCE & FEDERAL GRANTS TAKE CARE OF A DONOR'S TESTING,SURGERY TRANSPORTATION, LODGING, EVEN FOOD ALLOWANCE IF NECESSARY...PLEASE KEEP READING.
BASIC CRITERIA FOR POSSIBLE DONORS:
1. You must not be on medication for high blood pressure.
2. Cannot have any heart conditions.
3. Cannot have been treated for any type of cancer within the past 2 years. If you have had radiation or chemo, you are ruled out.
4. Must have a BMI (Body Mass Index) of 35% or less.
5. Cannot have diabetes.
6. If you are A or O blood type (+ or - doesn't matter), you can donate a kidney or blood. If you are NOT an A or O type, you can still help Bobbette. If you truly want to be a donor,then get tested to see if you match another recipient on the kidney waiting list. If you are a match for someone higher on the list, Vanderbilt participates in the nation wide swap program. Bobbette would move into their spot on the list. Example: Bobbette is #150 on the waiting list (it's hypothetical, don't know the actual #) but you get tested, match #75, donate to them, then Bobbette moves up to #75.
IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN BECOMING A POSSIBLE DONOR FOR JANIS BOBBETTE MILLER THEN PLEASE CALL THE VANDERBILT KIDNEY TRANSPLANT TEAM TOLL FREE AT 1-866-748-1491 OPTION 3.
***YOU ARE NOT OBLIGATED IN ANY WAY BY CALLING THE NUMBER IT IS FOR INFORMATION AND COMPLETELY CONFIDENTIAL.
Annette has set up a Caring Bridge site to give people that may not know Bobbette more information on her and this medical journey.You can follow her progress and show your support.Visit the website in two easy ways:
1. Visit her CaringBridge website by clicking the link below.
http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/janisbobbettemiller
OR
2. Enter the website name, janisbobbettemiller, at www.CaringBridge.org
When you visit you’ll be asked to log in because she has chosen to keep the site private.
Let me take a minute for some personal thoughts: Bobbette has been my best friend for 11 years. When I first moved to Nashville, she was the only person I knew. We have been on many road trips together, lived together, and made so many memories that are priceless to me. We have spent holidays and birthdays with each other's families. She has taught me more about forgiveness and love and grace than almost anyone else in this world. She has held me on the floor while I cried, laughed hysterically with me, and held my hand through a lot of life's ups and downs. She is one of the strongest people I know, and I will fight for her life in any way possible.
Thank you for taking the time to read this and, hopefully, pass it on.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
What I Learned in 60 Miles - Part 1
Preface: For those who are unaware, I walked the Komen 3 Day in Boston this past weekend. It's 60 miles of walking over 3 days, plus fundraising, sleeping in a tent, showering in a truck, port-a-potties, medic tents, etc. If you haven't done it, it's very difficult to explain. Physically, it's the toughest, most exhausting thing I've ever done. But these next few blogs are going to cover the mental & emotional aspect of it, which is something I wasn't prepared for.
Being Proud
60 miles is a long walk, no matter how you break it down, especially when you aren't allowed to have your earbuds in. Sure, you talk to your teammates, other walkers, crew, etc., but after a while, you get tired of talking. You just want to walk. That leaves you with only yourself.
It was somewhere around the last 2 miles of Day One that I got lost in my own head. It had been raining. My legs and feet were hurting. Sweep vans were beginning to pass by me with more frequency. And while two of my teammates were walking with me (and I wouldn't have made it without them), I really felt like a different version of myself was walking in front of me, backwards, taunting me. "You can't do this. You might as well get on the van. Who do you think you are to walk 20 miles in a day? Just get on the van already. You're just going to fail anyway. Get it over with early." The good thing about sweating that hard is that people can't tell you're crying.
I refused to look up... for several reasons. I was seriously afraid that I would actually see myself talking to myself. I know that's a horribly incorrect sentence, but you know what I mean. I didn't want to see how far I had left to walk. I didn't want to risk anyone looking me in the eyes and knowing that something was wrong. I didn't want to answer the questions they might have because I knew that if I opened my mouth to speak, I'd lose it. I didn't want to lose it. I just wanted to finish.
As we fell in to a single file line next to the small orange cones in the road, orange shirts and hands appeared in the corner of my eyes. Several of the safety crew had lined up to cheer us on the last few yards. They weren't just cheering because it was their job. They were cheering because they were genuinely proud of what we had accomplished that day. As the entrance to camp came closer, I heard singing. The Men With Heart were lining the entrance to camp, dancing and singing 'Pretty Woman', handing out bracelets, hugs and high fives. Now let me just tell you, after walking 20 miles in the heat and the rain, you feel anything but pretty. I had to break down & smile though because to those guys, we really were pretty. It had nothing to do with what we looked like (trust me, I know what I looked like at that moment) and everything to do with what we had accomplished. They were proud of us. And when they scanned me in to camp, I was proud of me.
Find Out Who Your Friends Are
That same evening, I hobbled around 3 Day Village. I remembered that there was place to pick up mail, if anyone had chosen to send you some. Thinking I might have a piece or two, I started digging through the alphabetized basket. I plopped a couple letters that weren't mine back in, then started laying the ones with my name down on the table. The stack kept building and soon the other people getting their mail started watching as my mouth fell open. I had 13 pieces of mail. That alone started the waterworks again.
While the rest of my team waited to be called for karaoke, I started to read my letters. And let me say that these weren't just letters or cards that had been signed & tossed in the mail. Several of them were works of art. It was very obvious that each one had taken effort, thought and emotion. I was a blubbering mess after just one card. By the third, I could barely see. I'm pretty sure that I had to lay my head on the table by the seventh card. The last three really did me in. When you get a card from someone you've met once and the entire inside of it is filled with beautiful words written in blue ink, it gets to you. And when you open two more that are from people you've never even met telling you what an inspiration you are to them... well, that's something that can't be described. Your feet suddenly don't hurt so much. That blister that you just got bandaged? It's not so bad. Stiff muscles? They loosen up.
Heading back to my tent, I pulled out my phone and began going through all the text messages and tweets I had gotten that day. Again, blubbering mess. I wanted to lock them all in my phone, but that left me no room for new messages. That's a lot of messages.
As I laid down to sleep, I started thinking about the people who had sent me all of the cards, letters, texts and tweets. It struck me that a lot of the people I call my 'friends' weren't in that list. To be honest, they'd been somewhat absent since I had made the decision to walk The 3 Day. They didn't donate. They didn't help motivate me. Yes, they were there whenever I took the initiative to get together with them and they seemed interested in updates whenever I would offer... but there was definitely a disconnect. Snide and sarcastic remarks had been tossed around a few times when we'd hung out about being 'graced with my presence'. They didn't seem to be very understanding of the schedule I had to stick to for training. There were no letters or words of encouragement from them.
Looking up at the top of my pink tent, I became okay with the fact that there are circles in my life. And some of the people who I had let in to the Friend Circle needed to be moved out of it. Not because they're bad people, but because at that moment in time, I needed friends who showed initiative and understanding. They knew what I needed. They knew that while I probably could have suffered through without their encouragement, I'd benefit more if I had it. They didn't assume that I knew they were proud of me or rooting for me. They let me know in no uncertain terms that I wasn't doing this alone.
Being Proud
60 miles is a long walk, no matter how you break it down, especially when you aren't allowed to have your earbuds in. Sure, you talk to your teammates, other walkers, crew, etc., but after a while, you get tired of talking. You just want to walk. That leaves you with only yourself.
It was somewhere around the last 2 miles of Day One that I got lost in my own head. It had been raining. My legs and feet were hurting. Sweep vans were beginning to pass by me with more frequency. And while two of my teammates were walking with me (and I wouldn't have made it without them), I really felt like a different version of myself was walking in front of me, backwards, taunting me. "You can't do this. You might as well get on the van. Who do you think you are to walk 20 miles in a day? Just get on the van already. You're just going to fail anyway. Get it over with early." The good thing about sweating that hard is that people can't tell you're crying.
I refused to look up... for several reasons. I was seriously afraid that I would actually see myself talking to myself. I know that's a horribly incorrect sentence, but you know what I mean. I didn't want to see how far I had left to walk. I didn't want to risk anyone looking me in the eyes and knowing that something was wrong. I didn't want to answer the questions they might have because I knew that if I opened my mouth to speak, I'd lose it. I didn't want to lose it. I just wanted to finish.
As we fell in to a single file line next to the small orange cones in the road, orange shirts and hands appeared in the corner of my eyes. Several of the safety crew had lined up to cheer us on the last few yards. They weren't just cheering because it was their job. They were cheering because they were genuinely proud of what we had accomplished that day. As the entrance to camp came closer, I heard singing. The Men With Heart were lining the entrance to camp, dancing and singing 'Pretty Woman', handing out bracelets, hugs and high fives. Now let me just tell you, after walking 20 miles in the heat and the rain, you feel anything but pretty. I had to break down & smile though because to those guys, we really were pretty. It had nothing to do with what we looked like (trust me, I know what I looked like at that moment) and everything to do with what we had accomplished. They were proud of us. And when they scanned me in to camp, I was proud of me.
Find Out Who Your Friends Are
That same evening, I hobbled around 3 Day Village. I remembered that there was place to pick up mail, if anyone had chosen to send you some. Thinking I might have a piece or two, I started digging through the alphabetized basket. I plopped a couple letters that weren't mine back in, then started laying the ones with my name down on the table. The stack kept building and soon the other people getting their mail started watching as my mouth fell open. I had 13 pieces of mail. That alone started the waterworks again.
While the rest of my team waited to be called for karaoke, I started to read my letters. And let me say that these weren't just letters or cards that had been signed & tossed in the mail. Several of them were works of art. It was very obvious that each one had taken effort, thought and emotion. I was a blubbering mess after just one card. By the third, I could barely see. I'm pretty sure that I had to lay my head on the table by the seventh card. The last three really did me in. When you get a card from someone you've met once and the entire inside of it is filled with beautiful words written in blue ink, it gets to you. And when you open two more that are from people you've never even met telling you what an inspiration you are to them... well, that's something that can't be described. Your feet suddenly don't hurt so much. That blister that you just got bandaged? It's not so bad. Stiff muscles? They loosen up.
Heading back to my tent, I pulled out my phone and began going through all the text messages and tweets I had gotten that day. Again, blubbering mess. I wanted to lock them all in my phone, but that left me no room for new messages. That's a lot of messages.
As I laid down to sleep, I started thinking about the people who had sent me all of the cards, letters, texts and tweets. It struck me that a lot of the people I call my 'friends' weren't in that list. To be honest, they'd been somewhat absent since I had made the decision to walk The 3 Day. They didn't donate. They didn't help motivate me. Yes, they were there whenever I took the initiative to get together with them and they seemed interested in updates whenever I would offer... but there was definitely a disconnect. Snide and sarcastic remarks had been tossed around a few times when we'd hung out about being 'graced with my presence'. They didn't seem to be very understanding of the schedule I had to stick to for training. There were no letters or words of encouragement from them.
Looking up at the top of my pink tent, I became okay with the fact that there are circles in my life. And some of the people who I had let in to the Friend Circle needed to be moved out of it. Not because they're bad people, but because at that moment in time, I needed friends who showed initiative and understanding. They knew what I needed. They knew that while I probably could have suffered through without their encouragement, I'd benefit more if I had it. They didn't assume that I knew they were proud of me or rooting for me. They let me know in no uncertain terms that I wasn't doing this alone.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
For Lori
Even though this isn’t very long, it’s taken me weeks to write this because of emotion. And it may only be meaningful to one person, but that’s all I’m aiming for. This is for Lori.
My dear Lori:
You’re leaving in a few days, bound for California. More than that, you’re bound for a new start, a refreshed life. I’m not sad. I’m ecstatic! I can hardly wait to see what you do and the life you create. You are not simply a woman. You are a force, and when the smallest opportunity presents itself, I know you’re going to take it and fly with it. And know that you’re not leaving behind… you’re taking with.
Thank you for standing back up and continuing to live. I know you’ll say that you had no other choice. You had to do it for your girls, for your mom, for your brothers. You had to do it because there was no one else to helm the ship. But you could just as easily have stayed on the floor, curled in a ball. Someone would have stepped in, but the result would have been disastrous. Your girls will be better women because you stood up and took a step forward each day. It has been my honor to help you hold the wheel when you felt tired.
I wish I could make this letter longer, but the fact is, I'm not telling you goodbye. You're not leaving me or our friendship. You're simply moving on to the next chapter, and I'm staying around for the entire book. Everything else that I want to say here can be said simply in the next few sentences.
You are the definition of ‘friend’. Thank you for seeing things in me that I did not see, and sometimes still have trouble seeing, in myself, and for not letting up until I opened my eyes. You are truly ones of my heroes. You are a blessing, an inspiration, and a role model. I love you.
Abbie
My dear Lori:
You’re leaving in a few days, bound for California. More than that, you’re bound for a new start, a refreshed life. I’m not sad. I’m ecstatic! I can hardly wait to see what you do and the life you create. You are not simply a woman. You are a force, and when the smallest opportunity presents itself, I know you’re going to take it and fly with it. And know that you’re not leaving behind… you’re taking with.
Thank you for standing back up and continuing to live. I know you’ll say that you had no other choice. You had to do it for your girls, for your mom, for your brothers. You had to do it because there was no one else to helm the ship. But you could just as easily have stayed on the floor, curled in a ball. Someone would have stepped in, but the result would have been disastrous. Your girls will be better women because you stood up and took a step forward each day. It has been my honor to help you hold the wheel when you felt tired.
I wish I could make this letter longer, but the fact is, I'm not telling you goodbye. You're not leaving me or our friendship. You're simply moving on to the next chapter, and I'm staying around for the entire book. Everything else that I want to say here can be said simply in the next few sentences.
You are the definition of ‘friend’. Thank you for seeing things in me that I did not see, and sometimes still have trouble seeing, in myself, and for not letting up until I opened my eyes. You are truly ones of my heroes. You are a blessing, an inspiration, and a role model. I love you.
Abbie
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