A prayer for my uncle: I went to a rehab center on the elbow of Cape Cod yesterday to say good bye to my uncle. He has been fighting cancer for more than four years and everyone in the room – including him – knows that we probably wouldn’t see him again.
In case I haven’t mentioned it, cancer sucks. I hadn’t seen my uncle in at least 10 months and physically, he is a shell of the man I remember. He is must dad’s brother-in-law but for as long as I can remember he has seemed like a blood relation. He now weighs 135 pounds, a mere fraction of the solid guy I remember playing basketball with on Thanksgivings that don’t seem all that long ago.
I felt like an idiot when I instinctively blurted out “How’s it going?” and from there on I didn’t know what to talk about. If I thought I could have held it together I would have thanked him for being one of the few male role models in my life who actually gave me a concrete example to follow. I would have told him that his faith had always been inspiring to me, even when my own has been decidedly lacking. I would have told him that I realize I haven’t seen the horrors of his fight with cancer on a day-to-day basis but that I have been floored with the quiet dignity in which he has kept it together since being diagnosed. Even yesterday, the man who always seemed to put taking care of others first wanted to make sure we knew that he was comfortable and being well cared for. He wanted to know that we need to not worry, but we do.
We also talked about the marathon. I told him about my chubby running friend and seeing Ireland, a country he has been to several times. As I turned to leave he said what may be his last words to me.
“I’m proud of you.”
I wanted to tell him that I’m just as proud of him but at that point the room seemed suddenly small and my emotions were no longer in my control. In the hallway we unsuccessfully fought back tears.
“You just need to run more marathons,” my sister said. “It’s an awful disease.”
* * *
And my sister is right. Since I finished Dublin I haven’t doubted for a minute at some point – sooner, not later – I’ll run another marathon with Team In Training. After seeing my uncle and spending a good chunk of the weekend remembering my dad, the $5,826 I did raise doesn’t seem like that much money at all. While I’m waiting to recover I’ve signed up to volunteer with the group in any way possible.
But I’m still a few months off, maybe even a year, away from the point where my non-runner’s body will be ready to try it again. But if you think I’m still a few months off from asking you for money, you’re wrong.
If you want to do something to make me happy in the mean time, consider helping another Team In Training athlete with a donation. The following are links to donation pages for people who are all training to run the Boston Marathon and who all had a huge hand in making my marathon possible. Donate to one of them or all of them if you can. I know they’d tell you that the smallest donations help:
http://www.active.com/donate/tntma/tntmaKFlynn1
http://www.active.com/donate/tntma/run4acure
http://www.active.com/donate/tntma/lpepicelliboston
http://www.active.com/donate/tntma/tntmaJRaymon
If I’m missing anyone, let me know and I’ll get a link up.
Update: I've fixed the links.Labels: TNT
