On Saturday September 10th 2011, I photographed Relay for Life for the 2nd year in a row. It was an honor and a privilege to work with so many amazing committee members and to document the day for those in attendance. The support and encouragement of those fighting cancer, those who have lost their battle and those who are survivors was amazing to be a part of and capture. There were times through the day that were happy, fun, exciting, sad and full of grief. I was very impressed with the organization of the event! The teams were all wonderful! The prizes they had donated to raffle off and donate the funds to Relay were incredible! Some teams sold delicious food! I LOVED the pulled pork sandwich! The snow cones were a huge hit as a fundraiser by team Sweet Miracles! The games planned and the entertainment was something that you would not want to have missed! A frozen tee shirt contest? I had never heard of such a thing and it was hilarious! Ms. Relay for the 2nd year in a row was another event that one would not want to miss either! I laughed so hard while taking pictures! Men dressed as women and strutting their stuff on stage? Laughter is such great medicine! I met so many wonderful, kind, giving people this past weekend! I wish I could say that I look forward to next year. By that I mean, if there is another Relay, that means that we are still trying to find a cure. I hope and pray in my heart that the day is near for a cure! It breaks my heart to hear of so many stories of loved ones fighting, losing their battle and in the end, have lost.I know there are many survivors! My Mom is one! My Godmother is two! My Grandma and her sisters were 3,4,and 5! Peter is 6! Arlie is 7! I have lost so many just as I am sure that you have as well! The only way is to donate! That cure shall be found! Your donations do not just go for research! They also go to the many programs The American Cancer Society provides! On that, here is the slide show.
Something I wrote earlier in the year. I always worry about typos and grammar. Here is the text.
I was just a child. I do not know how old I was exactly. Maybe 9 or 10. All I remember at the time of innocence is hearing the words, "Your Papa Dale has Prostate Cancer." Next? I heard, "It has spread to his bones. Your Papa has Bone Cancer." Last? My Grandmother coordinating Hospice. All the while in my tender young brain I was Thinking, "What is this? What is going on?" I didn't understand. Well...not until he died. Even then my understanding was vague. As it came near the end of his battle, my Mom and I would sleep at my Nana's house in the living room. This is where his rented hospital bed was placed. We would sleep on the couch. I remember lying there listening to him breath. Can you imagine a child having to undergo such a painful experience? I remember asking my mom in a whisper so that I would not wake him, "Mom...Is he breathing?" I was so scared! My Papa was dying. I knew this ...I think. As I write now, I must have known.
I do not even know how long I slept at my Nana's house for. Days...weeks.. a month? It was December 8th when his battle was lost. I was showering and getting dressed. It was going to be Christmas soon and I was so excited! My Mom and I were going to venture off for a tree. It was supposed to be a good day. It was supposed to be filled with Christmas happiness instead of lingering death. My Papa was sleeping. I peered at him from the doorway to check. He seemed to be okay. I did not realize that he was being called home at that very moment. I heard him take his last breath. Can you imagine a child listening for someone to breath let alone one of the most important persons in their life? He took that last breath as I was standing there. I stood there longer to hear another and there wasn't one. Hospice was in the kitchen with my Mom. My Grandma, his wife was at the grocery store. I yelled in my young, soft voice, "Mom...He isn't breathing! Papa isn't breathing!" I was so focused on that sound that I knew it had stopped! I watched my Mom run to her Father and start CPR. It was not working. I watched her run to the telephone to dial for help. This all seemed to be in slow motion yet there was complete and utter chaos. A whirlwind of despair was taking place. I heard the Hospice nurse say to my mother, "Mary! What are doing? Why are you doing this? For what? He has lost his fight! Let him go." The nurse then hung the receiver up on the base of the phone. I hide in the corner crying. That poor little girl hiding from that horrible nightmare. No child should ever have to endure what this little girl went through 26 or 27 years ago. It was a tragic and a damaging event. For years I thought, "It is my fault that he died. I should have woken him up. I wanted to tell him, Papa...Papa...we are going to get our tree!" . I always wondered why I didn't Wake him! I blamed myself because I was the only one with him in the living room at that moment! I guess he just looked and sounded okay. He was alive! I remember telling my friends that it was my fault that my Papa passed away! It was MY FAULT that he died! Years later? I finally realized that it was not! It was Cancer. Cancer was to blame! This was my first experience with losing a loved one and unfortunately, not my last. Many more loved ones in my life have been diagnosed. Some have lost their fight. Some have won!
