Relay, Survivors, Purple Ballons

That is what this weekend entailed. Walking on to the track I was hit by a flood of emotions, but they didn't really hit me until I saw my mom. It was at least 75 degrees at 9:30am yesterday, but there she was wig, hat, pink ribbon sweatshirt under her purple Survivors shirt, and I know there was one more shirt on under her sweatshirt. She had a smile on her face and was determined to do the first lap. The Survivors Lap.


Dad had told me she got winded just walking to her groups camp spot, we both knew the odds of her doing the lap were small. The odds of her finishing even smaller. But there she was, small and frail, but determined. That was the first moment yesterday when I was grateful for my big sunglasses.

They announced the Opening Ceremonies, everyone please come in front of the stage. So off we went. Mom pushing the walker with the seat she brought for support and for a resting spot if she needed one. Dad and her friend and office manager, Judy, on either side of her, me behind to capture the moment.

We got to the front. Mom sat down, just the few short yards was a lot on her.

The ceremony was beautiful. There were more than enough reasons I was grateful for those big sunglasses. Especially as I looked over at my mom, Judy's husband Ron standing behind her. Her face was scrunched the way it gets when she cries, behind those big sunglasses. I have gotten to know this face well in the last year and a half. What she cried for I don't know, I am sure there were lots of reasons. What I cried for was her, the Mom I know and love. The Mom who would get up and go, the Mom I feel I have lost for a while, but I know will be back with me some day. I cry for my Dad, for knowing he is crying behind his big sunglasses too. I cry for my little brother, who had to learn to deal with this in his own way, who showed up for the very first lap to be there for Mom, with his best friend by his side because he knew no other way to be there.
Then they announced the start of the first lap. Off Mom and Ron went, Ron pushing Mom on the little walker, because she wouldn't let Dad bring the wheel chair

When they finished the lap Mom was too warm and got sick. We took her home to rest. She told me she was mad that she couldn't have done more. This woman, my hero, my stubborn Mom was not happy with what she had done, she wanted more. This is why she is still here with us. She wants more! She wants to see my brother get married some day, and me have babies. She wants to see my dad go totally gray, which is going to take about 20 more years. She wants a lot of things and she deserves every one of the things she wants.

So Mom, if you read this. Know I am more proud of you than words can say. I love you.