Cancer: it’s a life experience that has become all too common to most of us, affecting our friends, families, neighbors and communities. Still, a cancer diagnosis seems to separate us – those who suddenly have so many more worries, information and challenges to occupy their minds, and those who wish there was something more they could do, some way they could help their loved ones carry this frightening burden.
Many of those who have fought cancer have been assisted by the American Cancer Society. In an effort to support those who face cancer, represent hope that one day cancer will be eliminated, and remember those whose lives have been lost to cancer, the American Cancer Society sponsors community-wide, day-long “Relay for Life” events.
The Orcas Relay for Life will take place this weekend, from Friday night to Saturday afternoon at the athletic field behind the Orcas High School.
Last year, I participated in the first Orcas Island Relay for Life. We raised awareness and raised some funds, and I’ll tell you what it was like.
The Relay, organized by Leslie Moriarity, opened with the inspiring sight of cancer survivors like Judi Resch leading huge white dove-kites around the track. “Hey, I’m alive!” they seemed to say, and the joyful exuberance of that statement alone was worth whatever inconveniences the whole 24 hours entailed.
I borrowed a two-man tent from my houseguest, my husband’s childhood friend and we set the tent up underneath the canopy of the booth that I’d purchased for outdoor fairs.
My friend from Alaska days, Melissa, flew up from Seattle to man the tent with me. She had talked me into a walking marathon for leukemia 10 years ago, and faithfully trained with me as we increased our walks along Seattle’s Burke Gilman trail from one mile in June to the full 26 miles that cold wet day in November. Our team leader and inspiration for that “Teams in Training”effort, Darcy, had survived cancer, but the treatment weakened her heart and she died the following year.
When we were setting up the tent in the high school field, thank goodness we had the brain wave to add the plastic-sheet walls of the booth, so it was kind of like a tent-within-a-tent. That night, as often happens, the wind came up and threatened to blow us to bits. Melissa and I decided that we would stay as long as the tent stayed up within the booth and the booth didn’t collapse.
Musicians had signed on with Leslie Seaman to play, but I relished the quiet moments when in silent and simple determination, people like Paul Kamin and his son Peter walked the track for Peter’s mom, Ethna Flanagan.
As Melissa and I walked lap after lap around the track, she told me the long story of a recent family crisis, and I realized how very long it had been since she and I had been able to pour our hearts out to each other.
As darkness fell, the luminarias were lit. The wind blew some of them out; as cancer snuffs out the light of some of those who fight to stay alive. It was a simple and profound reminder of the nature of the struggle.
At about midnight Melissa and I crawled into the sleeping bags after fumbling at the zippers with numbed fingers. We even managed to sleep.
We slept through the notorious “sprinkler” incident when the school’s sprinkler system went off automatically at 2 a.m., as programmed, unsettling and dampening several teams, including the fabulous Key Club kids, whose tents were parked right on top of the sprinklers. Two hours later, the sprinklers were finally turned off.
At about 3 in the morning, Doug Pearson awakened me to accompany him on his laps around the relay course. Doug has had a hip replacement but that didn’t slow him down in the slightest. We had a good long talk about money and working toward life’s dreams.
After Doug left, I went back to sleep, and Melissa got up about 6 a.m. to lap around the course. Then Marilyn Anderson and Rachel Adams came, bearing scones and coffee and looking crisp and pert as I staggered sleepy-eyed from the tent. We’d made it, though the wind had whipped off a corner of the booth’s roof.
The breakfast table was full of healthy and delicious food – and lots of it – forget any thoughts of walking off calories. Still there were walkers around the track, some just arrived and fresh; some straggling and weary. The “camp” woke to life and took up their beds and folded their tents.
Later that afternoon, the event came to a close, and we lucky walkers retreated to our homes, for showers and naps and just puttering around, enjoying everyday life.
This year, our proud, caring community boasts two young women, Dyan Holmes and Noelle Benepe, who are organizing the Orcas Relay for Life event. As once again, we here on Orcas face the knowledge that while some of our neighbors have prevailed against this dreaded disease, others of our friends have lost the fight to cancer. Participating in the Relay for Life event this Friday evening and Saturday morning – with our support given in donations and in laps around the relay track – is a small measure we can take to fight cancer and help our families and neighbors.
Tomorrow night, many of us plan to go to Orcas Center to hear the Portland Taiko drummers, to the Discovery House to dance at the Prom We Never Had to support John Baker, to the movies and to other events. On Saturday, the Farmers Market will spill over from the Village Green into town.
And up behind the high school, the Relay for Life will go on, all night through. Plan on stopping by there, for a little or a long while, and give thanks that you can.
