There is no finish line, until there's a cure

Sabrina and I were in math class and trying to cheat on the test as usual without getting caught. We had developed a system of using sign language between our desks to help each other with the answers that we couldn't figure out by ourselves. Once the test was completed we were supposed to go to the next room and begin working on our homework. Yeah, like that was going to happen. Instead we began talking about the weekend and our plans. I was going to a friend’s house if her mom ungrounded her and Sabrina was going to the Relay for Life.

I had never heard of it and Sabrina said I should come by and check it out given that I lived just right across the street. It turned out that Debbie was still grounded and since I had nothing else to do, I decided to head over and see what was going on.

Sabrina met me at the entrance to Zaepfel Stadium and took me inside. It was a sea of white, blue, and purple and finding anything was going to be next to impossible. In fact, it took us more than an hour to find our campsite. There were actually two teams sharing our site. One was for the adults and the other was for the teenagers. We settled in, had dinner, and then listened to the adults go over what was going to be expected of us. The teenagers were at one side of the campsite and the adults were at the other. If anyone was found in a tent belonging to anyone of the opposite sex, their parent’s would be receiving a phone call regardless of how late the infraction occurred. 

Back then, the threat actually held water as most parents still punished their children. There was no doubt in my mind that my father would have tanned my hide if he received a phone call in the middle of the night notifying him that I was trying to sneak into a boy’s tent. Sabrina’s dad was the one who informed us of the rules and I have to tell you that he was a very big and very intimidating man. I got the distinct impression that no one ever crossed him and if they did, their bodies were likely snack food for the fish in the Yakima River. He let it be known that if he even suspected that there were thoughts of not following this rule, the only person they would find themselves sleeping next to would be him. Not a picture I wanted in my head then and one that still makes me shudder today.

After we got settled in we headed over to the stage for the opening ceremonies. Songs were sung, poems were read, the usual thank you for coming speeches were given, and then there was a call for survivors to come to the stage. What were they talking about? Survivors of what? I was trying to figure out what they meant by the survivor comment when the stage began filing with people. There must have been more to 100 people and they were all wearing purple shirts. All of the other participants were wearing white so why did these people have purple shirts. Sabrina had told me the white shirts were to show unity so what did the purple shirts mean? Surely they stood for something, but I had no idea what it could have been until a little girl was wheeled over to the microphone and began to talk to the crowd. She was 6 years old and she was a cancer survivor. That is what the shirts were for. It was to signify the people who had beaten cancer and those who were still mounting daily battles against it. The crowd got very quiet as this little girl told her story.

She was on her third round of chemotherapy, but the cancer was still spreading. At the age of 6 she had already undergone 9 surgeries to remove tumors and one surgery to remove her left leg. Doctors were hopeful that removal of the leg would help to slow the overly-aggressive cancer. Her hope was that the cancer would slow down long enough to allow her to play outside that coming summer instead of spending it in a hospital bed. She was 6 years old and she had only been able to play outside once in her life. Her story broke my heart. After completing the story, she led what is known as the survivor lap. The first lap of the Relay for Life is walked by cancer survivors to celebrate them. After they complete their lap the rest of the participants join in and the relay kicks off.  

Sabrina and I were slotted to do the first four hours and the last four hours of the relay so we stayed out on the track and kept on walking. About an hour into our shift white bags began lining the track. When I asked her what they were, Sabrina explained to me that they were luminarias. People pay money for the bags and then put the name of a loved one who has cancer, or who has died from cancer. Bags that say In Memory of Jane Doe are for the people who have died from cancer. Bags that say In Honor of Jane Doe are for people who have had or currently have cancer. The longer we walked, the more bags they added. At one point I left Sabrina walking for the both of us and went over and purchased a bag for my grandpa. If these bags are to honor cancer patients, I want to honor him. After I write out his name on the form and hand over my money, I make my way back to Sabrina. We began walking slowly as each of us read every bag. I remember being sad when I realized that more of the bags said "In Memory of" than "In Honor of". As the sun began to set dozens of people knelt in front of the bags and began to light candles that were nestled inside the luminarias.

At 10PM our block of time was done and Sabrina and I head to the main stage for the luminaria ceremony. Where the opening ceremonies were upbeat and encouraging, the luminaria ceremony was subdued and quiet. The speaker said there were many different ways to carry out the ceremony, but the method she felt drove the message home the most was to read each and every name from the bags lining the track. As they began reading I broke off from Sabrina. She went to find her mom and I went to find the bag I had purchased for my grandpa. After about 20 minutes I found it and just stood there. As the names were being read in the background, I was thinking about how much I missed my grandpa and that the last time I had seen him alive, I was sick and couldn’t touch him because his immune system was too weak. It was at that moment that the announcers read out his name.

 I cannot describe how it felt. It was as though something broke inside of me and for the first time since he had died, I grieved. In a way, it helped me to heal because it changed part of me. I think it was the first time in my life I realized the true magnitude of my insignificance. I was a freshman in high school and my life or death moments involved clothing, boys, and gossip. These people represented by the luminarias fought real life or death battles daily. I knew from that moment on I would be different and that every year after that I would take 24 hours of my life to celebrate their lives.

I have participated in 13 other Relay for Life events since then and unfortunately my list of "In Memory of" Luminarias continues to grow. What started out as 1 at my first relay has now turned into more than 10. If you ever get the chance to attend a relay, I urge you to go. If you cannot attend the entire event at least make it for the Luminarias. The beauty held inside those bags becomes tangible at 10pm and ceremony speaks volumes through the quiet. My first relay changed my life and if you let it, it can change yours. 

6 years ago I was struggling to earn enough money just to pay my rent and bills. I was living on my own for the first time in my life and I was going to lose my place and move in with my parents again if I did not find a way to get extra income. I had applied to dozens of places but most companies were not willing to work with my already crazy schedule that was in place at fish killers. (Not the real name, obviously.) I heard it through my cousin that Home oh no was hiring. So I thought what the heck and applied. I was hired within the week.

Orientation began in April and my cousin and I spent a week cooped up in a little room where we learned the ins and outs of our jobs. Needless to say, orientation was very boring. Really, how much can they teach you about watering flowers and such when they cannot show you firsthand? Diagrams on the white board don’t adequately convey the right amount of moisture needed for plants to survive. To help pass the time and not make us want to take our shiny new box knives and introduce them to our wrists, my cousin and I were picking future boyfriends out of the employee pictures hanging on the wall. We had critiqued through most all of the pictures without me finding one that was appealing when suddenly a picture jumped out at me. It was a picture of a man in a skin tight black tee-shirt with his arms crossed over his chest. To say that he looked built was like calling the Mona Lisa a doodle. The shirt was pulled so tight that the seams looked like they were going to rip open. This man was mine!

Whenever he would come down to the garden department I would get all flustered and I would try to avoid him while still keeping an eye on him. Mack says that I was stalking him. I would laugh about it, but for the fact that it is kind of true. Which fits into one of my all time favorite quotes about love: "I've learned that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is stalk them and hope they panic and give in." ;) 

One day in June, he helped me and some other employees load a big BBQ into someone’s truck and he spoke to me for the first time. I thought I would melt into the floor. We hadn't even been on a date or kissed and I was hooked. I was already envisioning the house with the picket white fence and the kids in the yard. I didn’t even want kids, but I could see them with him. The next night we both were working the closing shift and when we got off of work, I waited around and asked him to go with me to go get some ice cream. Little did I know that asking him to go get some ice cream would change my life. They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. It was for me.

At work the next day I was giddy. I couldn’t even focus and every time I saw him, I got butterflies. Two weeks after the ice cream “date” we were talking about what we liked to do in our spare time and he mentioned that he liked to play cards and board games. I told him that my family got together once a month and played poker and I asked him if he wanted to go. He already knew my cousin Stefani who was going to be there, so he willingly agreed.

Everything was going well and he got along with my family perfectly. However, I was certain that he had no interest, a fact that became obvious to me when I dropped him back home and we just sat in my car. Do nothing. I remember looking out the window and commenting on a cat that walked by and when I looked back at him he reached over and kissed me. It was perfect. It was aggressive and sweet and tender and just…AHHHHH. No words. We pulled apart after a few minutes and he said goodnight. I sat in the driveway for a minute while I tried to compose myself but I knew that I had to leave or he really would think I was a stalker. So I went around the corner a half a block and did a little happy dance in my car. If I was giddy before, I was damn near flying.

About a week later I heard him telling someone that he was looking for a place to live and I told him that an apartment opened up above me in my building. I got him in touch with my landlord and he moved in. Two days after he moved in we were hanging out at my place and our relationship escalated further. I won’t go into detail other than to say HOLY CHRIST!!! That man knows his stuff. It was like everything you read about and wish you could experience, all of that and so much more

We began spending every moment together that we could at work and at home. There was no point to us having two apartments since the only time we were ever apart was when his kids were sleeping. Even then we were always finding ways to be together. We sure spent a lot of time on his sofa that’s for sure. After he lived in his apartment for a month, we began talking about marriage. There was no longer hesitation or unease on my end. Marriage was no longer a piece of paper. It was everything. Of course I would marry him. And I did exactly that a year and a half later.

I know that there is no such thing as fairytale love. You don’t hear birds singing and see flowers dancing. I knew going in to this relationship that love takes work. If you aren’t working at love, you don’t care enough. There is no such thing as perfect. People do not meet and get married and never have a problem. That just isn’t reality. Anyone who thinks that kind of love exists is naïve on a level that really is quite sad. I knew all of this when I met this man but I had no idea that I would get as close to perfect as someone can get. This man was meant for me in every way possible. Our bodies were made to fit each others in every way. Our hearts were made to love one another and our souls were meant to spend eternity together as man and wife. It was as if God made each of us with the sole purpose of the other in mind. It is no wonder we both failed at relationships in the past. We were both with people who were below us, people who were inadequate and incapable of loving us the way that we deserved.

Every dream that I never knew I had always wanted, came true when I met this man. I take this time to celebrate him and to celebrate our love and to hope that each one of you find the person who completes you in the way that my husband completes me. He is my one, my only, and my always and I will love him for the rest of my life and in the life that comes after.