Celebrating Nancy's Journey

I was half way through my workout today and I realized what date it was. August 26, 2010. Most of us wont remember today. We wont remember anything special, nothing exciting. Business as usual, just another day.
Not if you are my friend Nancy. Today is her last Chemo treatment. As I said in the beginning of this process, she is an amazingly strong lady. I know she does not feel that way at moments, but she is. She has been so brave. She has shared with her friends and family those moments we may have wondered about. What if one day I have cancer? What does it feel like? What happens? What are the treatments like? Are there glue on eyebrows? How do you go about buying wigs? What is it like to have a port put in? How do the drugs feel as they go in the IV? She has shared her emotions during those amazing moments when friends and family rallied for her. How she felt when her co-workers had numerous cookie sales at work to raise money for her medical expenses. How much it has meant to have her mom by her side at her treatments, and at home. How much her husband has meant to her during this process. How much her congregation has meant to her.
She has posted a glimpse into her next year, what appointments will be looking like, when radiation will begin. She knows she has a ways to go before this is all over with, and will be starting her radiation in September. The projected end date to it all being June 16, 2011.
But with the end of each treatment, the light at the end of the tunnel gets brighter, the end is in sight! It's about 9:30 now, her last treatment will either begin shortly or already has. Today is the last time she'll have to pick out her chair, where she'll be for a few hours, keeping her self busy, no doubt with her mom by her side. And as she said, however bad the side effects, however bad she feels, its the last time she has to do it!
Brian and I ran the Komen for the Cure last year. At the time, it meant a lot to him, as his mom was going through treatment for Breast Cancer. I felt a bit out of place, in a sea of pink. There were women all around us, some were survivors, some were clearly undergoing treatment, some were running in honor of sisters, mothers, friends, and family members who fought with all their heart but lost their battles. It was emotional, but not personal.
This year, my daughters and I will run for Nancy. I don't' think she could ever know how much she has meant to me over the years, especially in my childhood. Her home was a safe place for my sister and I to be. She had no way of knowing what all was going on in my little world, there was a lot she didn't' know and still may not. Her home was the highlight of my life. In those early years, pre elementary school age, I thought she lived in a castle. She had a huge old house, with a huge closet full of shoes for my sister and I to wear around her room. She listened to "real music", not country. One of her fav at the time was George Michael, and her house was the only place we got to listen to him. She would help my sis and I slide down the stairs on whatever slippery objects we could find, while her mom was in the kitchen cooking liver. She taught us how to use the sewing machine and I can't tell you how many needles we broke! We played countless games of Clue, which was the neatest thing at the time. She had cats, which we thought were neat, although the cat litter was in the bathroom under the sink...not so neat. For a while, her grandma lived with them, and I remember thinking she was this neat, older creature. And the patio full of bird seed and birds, the neat old shed full of her dads projects. Her dad wasn't' around a lot that I remember, but I do remember being fascinated by him. He was a gruff teddy bear type, very raspy voice, smelled smokey, had dark mechanic hands, but had a gentleness, and a twinkle in his eyes, and a huge personality. My sis and I would often pretend to be sick so Nancy could come over and watch us. She knew, but never told our secret! She would bring over some project, sometimes laying out quilt squares all over our living room floor. After a day of playing and hanging out with the coolest teenager we knew, I remember about 3:30 she would remind us that we were supposed to be sick....we would settle down and put on our sick faces just in time for mom to get home at 4. She will never really know what an important role in my childhood she played. And she's always been there through out my life. She has always kept in touch, some how remembering anniversaries and sending home made cards, emailing...despite the fact that we haven't' actually seen each other in many years.
I have hated that she has had to go through having cancer, and all the things associated with that. I hate more the feeling that there is nothing I can really do. But I will do the one thing I can do. I consider it an honor and a privileged to run for Nancy. The girls and I will be wearing our pink, and running our hearts out!
Love you, sis!