THREE DAYS

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.