DAY ONE: INDIVIDUAL
Years
ago I cheered on my daughter, Beth, in multiple events. But that was years ago. Early this summer she announced she was doing
the Susan G. Komen 3 Day http://www.the3day.org/site/PageServer in August. Excited for her and the cause she chose, I applauded
from the sidelines when she walked and trained all summer, especially the grueling,
hilly, but very scenic, Center Road on Old Mission Peninsula. I sewed a shirt with signs of support and encouragement. Thrilled to interact once again, I drove to
Novi, MI, very early on a Friday morning for the Opening Ceremony in my self-
assigned role as designated sideline observer and cheerleader.
And
each walker started their first twenty miles.
I
had no idea. No one can just be an
observer. Standing near Beth, Leah, and
Brenda, all designated walkers, and hundreds of others at the Opening Ceremony,
the excitement and dedication surrounding finding a cure for breast cancer permeates
your being. You are not just in the moment;
you realize what is happening: we are all one in the fight.
That
day in my car, I chased pink butts on walking trails, sought out cheering
stations offering thunder sticks (long, narrow pink balloon like cheering apparatus),
allowed a man with a pink tutu to stop traffic for me and followed a “Tit
Mobile” who seemed to have some idea where the next cheering station would
be. After an hour and a half of “learning
the ropes” I drove crosstown to pick up granddaughter, Claudia, so she could
share in all the fun. We found the man
dressed like Santa in a pink beard and pink short shorts and knew her mom and
Leah were close behind.
And
the each walker kept trudging their first twenty miles.
Claudia
and I were giddy with excitement. We
knew we would have to “ramp up” our cheering for Day Two so we shopped at
Target and Michaels to outfit ourselves in pink boas, pink tiaras, cute pink
straw hats from the little girl department (on sale too) pink wands and of
course supplies to create posters and shirts.
DAY
TWO: COMMUNITY
Walkers
started on their second twenty miles
Claudia
and I recruited friends and family to join us and we followed pink vans and
waving thunder sticks once again. We
even urged my very straight engineer husband to don a boa and tiara and pound
especially hard on his thunder stick.
In
Plymouth, MI, enthusiastic supporters filled the streets, burst the downtown
park. The park fountain overflowed with
pink tinted water. And I thought of my
friend, Betty who died of breast cancer ten years ago. She lived in Plymouth and I knew she was
loving the community support.
And
the walkers held on to each other, lifted each other up and kept walking their
second twenty.
Later
that evening at the camp, we saw acres of pink tents, heard inspiring stores of
survival, and intermingled with tired, blistered walkers; hugging them tightly,
cheering together.
DAY
THREE: HOLY GROUND
And
the walkers began their last twenty
Before
I chased the walkers on Sunday I heard a sermon from our new Director of
Community Outreach at Clarkston United Methodist Church, Mary Gladstone-Highland, who discussed different vignettes
of community involvement: Moses in the
desert, the deaf, refugees; and how they were all examples of “Holy Ground.” Afterwards, I told Mary I felt the 3 Day was
also a model of Holy Ground. http://www.clarkstonumc.org/
How
little I knew how much. Driving to catch
up with the walkers, I was halfway there when Beth texted me. Pulling into a Livonia neighborhood, to stop
and read, “60 miles! Done!!!!!” Wow!!! And I hadn’t even made it to Dearborn
yet.
Wheeling into Ford World Headquarters after observing weary, but determined walkers still
trudging, I tiptoed among exhausted walkers who were also tiptoeing in footies,
flip flops or fatigued feet. I waited
with Beth and Leah under a huge shade tree for the inspiring closing ceremony.
It
was then that I knew Day Three was about even more:
I
watched a man push a woman across the grass in a wheelchair. I had seen them often on the trails the last
three days. The woman was extremely
pale, trembling thin with a headband and hat covering her head, showing exhaustion
even when she tried to lift a water bottle to her lips. She was surrounded by
children handing her flowers, adults patting her shoulders. I know only the story I observed; but I know she was on Holy Ground.
