For many reasons I have been thinking about Lisa lately. One of the reasons, I’m not sure if I’m free to discuss, but the other reason she’s been on my mind is that twenty years ago this fall is when she was originally diagnosed. Two little words, “feel this,” changed our lives.
Many of you know that I have done three breast cancer walks in which I walked, with about 2,000 other people, 60 miles over three days. I did two in NY/NJ and one in Phoenix.
Something yesterday jogged my memory of two stories from the first two walks I decided to share.
After each day of walking we slept in two person tents that we setup after walking for the day. After the first day of walking in my first walk my tent mate had already set our tent up. I was grateful because I was sore and exhausted. I mentioned to him that I snore. He said it was no problem, he was a deep sleeper. The next morning, as we were folding up our tent, I asked him if I snored. Twenty women’s heads popped around us and said, “YES!”
The following year Ricki Lake walked with us. On the second morning I was up early and my tent was already folded and stowed, so I was walking around helping other people. I ran across Ricki Lake and helped her fold her tent. I held the bag while she put it in. She said, “is it in yet?” I responded, “am I going to hear that from 2,000 women today?” She paused, for what seemed like days, and then laughed until she almost coughed up a lung.
Twenty years… The time in between runs the gamete from unreal to surreal with none of it being at all real but all of it being realistic.
I think it’s time to let this realization come to an end.