“Mommy, what does HOPE mean?” Josh asked as we walked to the lite up sign that spelled HOPE.
Friday night our school property was the site for the Relay for Life event. I love this event because it is something that the children can be part of. Our school had 2 teams… one that Tyler was part of, the alumni group (very cool) and a group that Jordan was part of, made of the 7/8 classes this year. Sanj and his partner in crime, Allan Hill braved the rains that came during the night to supervise the kids.
Last year at this event I was there, walking around the track with a fellow mom, who was in the midst of the fight for her life… battling breast cancer. I remember the heaviness that filled my heart. Her head was bald from the effects of the chemo and radiation. She was sporting a knit cap that her sister had given her. She was someone that I felt such admiration for… she didn’t complain… she just fought… hard… for her kids. Her youngest daughter was in Tyler’s class… about to graduate from grade 8. My friend has dreams.. big ones that surpassed watching her daugher’s 8th grade grad… dreams like being there for her high school years, watching her grow into a woman and see her walking down the isle on her wedding day, enjoying her grand babies…
My friend had dreams… those dreams that every mom has… and as we walked around the track remembering those that had passed, celebrating those that had won the fight and cheering those that were fighting, I found myself praying really hard… a mom needs to be there for her child.
I had faith and hope in a miracle. I needed to believe in that miracle… for her and yet for me. I needed to see God in this story… there have been too many loses… it seems and this story… I really needed a happy ever after…
This Friday, as we walked around the track, my friend and I, with her hair, a sweet little do… as her hair continues to grow back… she was smiling from inside out and on this day as we walked around the track… celebrating another year in her daughter’s life… I saw and felt what hope was… I saw and felt what faith was… I was holding the hand of a walking miracle.
As my sweet Josh asked what HOPE meant… I wanted to say to him… Just look at Mrs. Zwart… she is HOPE… she is FAITH… she is a MIRACLE.
My friend… she still has treatments every 3 weeks and continues to heal. And yet… that’s because her story will keep on going.
And yet… there are so many that have lost a dear one… there are so many tears.. there are so many loved ones missed…
As we were walking around the circle, the crowd stopped… and it looked like everyone was looking at this cross that someone had put up… Sanj whispered to me.. “Who put the cross up? It is very cool.” It was like God was there whispering comfort… someday soon… we will all be together, reunited with all those that the diease had taken.
The interesting thing was it wasn’t a cross.. it was the hydro pole… yet the lighting fell on it just so… giving the illusion of a cross.
A God Thing.
We must continue to fight, to raise funds, to support, encourage and do all the things that need doing to support those that are fighting this awful disease… we must continue to HOPE … for a cure… for that miracle… and know that one day… it will all end.
This life here is a short one… we must keep the faith of the life that is coming… where there will be no more sickness or pain.
I can’t wait!!!
Thanks Reema for posting this.
……and there will be no more tears. I love you Reema for your passion for this cause. We need more people like you in this world. This cause is one that is very close to my heart. My mom died of cancer when I was 16 years old. I have been cancer free from a malignant melanoma that was found on my back, 11 years ago this month. I couldn’t be there on Friday night, but I heard about the cross. God is so good!! I truly share your passion in fighting this ugly disease! Paddles Up is this wknd.
Cheryl
Reema, thanks for sharing this. Working in the operating room and seeing many women getting breast biopsies, wide excision mastectomies and total bilateral mastectomies, I’ve become a bit “immune” to the lives of these women outside of the operating room. I get caught up in the task at hand and forget to think that some of these women will return to have more breast tissue removed. Some will not return because all the cancer has been removed and they are in remission, and some will unlikely not return because they did not win the battle with the disease. I suppose that it is good to not ponder this stuff so deeply while I am working, as I would be a blubbering idiot when these ladies need strength and comfort. But visiting it outside of the context of work is a very sobering thing. Yes, many prayers are needed for these strong women and their strong families having to deal with the disease. Thanks for sharing this.