Mother's Day in October

October is breast cancer awareness month, and every year we can we join the Denver Race for the Cure. Last year we were unable to make it, but this year was great! For our family, it's more like a second Mother's Day because it commemorates another year that J's mom is cancer-free. She is such a wonderful example of love and giving. I think of all that would have been so different if she wasn't here and am so grateful that my children can take for granted that they have grandparents, and that my husband had such a healthy and wonderful family to grow up in. Thanks to her, so many people have been blessed!

The sun dawned a brilliant pink; a beautiful reminder of hope and courage fitly dressed to celebrate the day.  

A very, very pleased Korrali snuggled with her Grammy.

Claire was cold, hence the jacket headdress and blanket bundling. I can't blame her - it was early.

Beanie Baby, courtesy of a loving Grandpa.

There was a party going on in the Survivor's Tent as we waited in line for a family photo button, and where there is a party, there Korrali will be. I love this video of her and her Grammy!

Cute as a Button


The bunch of us

We shortened the walk a bit, so Korrali wasn't tired at all and scampered everywhere. Since I was wearing a baby, Korrali wore my race shirt. I think it looked even better on her as a dress.

 Korrali loves her Grammy, so I need to say a few words about her, and our, feelings for this day. When we told Korrali our plans, she was so excited. She has two forms of excitement: crazy everywhere, and deep, focused goal achievement. In this case, it was the latter. She has a good understanding of what it means to have cancer, as a good friend of ours whom she knew as "Uncle Matt" passed away last year after fighting it. She spent quite a lot of time visiting with him with me, and it affected her profoundly to understand the her Grammy had once been sick with the same (though different type of) disease.  She has been blessed with the ability to forget this year; up until a few months ago she remembered everyone and almost every place she had ever been - even places she went to before she could speak. Now she doesn't remember most of what happened in our last year - except for two things: the death of her "Uncle" Matt and the death of her best friend and pet, Teo. She didn't express very many feelings out loud, but I could tell from her behavior (quieter, very obedient, very thoughtful questions) that she was focusing to do what was necessary to be in a place to celebrate with us something that was important to her personally.

I can't speak for J, because I know he has his own very deep and personal feelings for his Mom and for being with her at a time that is important to her. Also if I delay this post to get him to record his thoughts I will probably never post, but look for an update here one day soon.

I can, however, speak for myself. Bonita came in to my life at a time when I was young, and feeling vulnerable and lonely. I was sensitive to relationships and in need of a close personal friendship with a mentor. My own heart was still raw when I met her; it was still a few years shy of healing from the ache of my own family's split. We lived with her, and I found my husband's mother was willing to take me as I was and love me as her own. Watching her care for her family and husband, though perhaps she didn't know I watched so closely, was exactly the nurturing I needed to renew my own faith in marital longevity. I know that mine is not the only heart she touched then, or through the years, or now, and that inspires me to be more loving, charitable, and thoughtful. Her life is a lesson in the power of one person's ability to influence one spot of the world for good, and the domino effect it has on the world as a whole. Life is precious. I look at her kind, generous, compassionate youngest son, and knowing that he is a miracle baby again renews my desire to dig in while I can and lift where I can.

Always when we walk together I remember my Aunt, whose story did not have a happy ending. I find my heart breaking for my cousins and uncle who miss her so terribly, and who have never quite recovered from the repercussions of losing her so young. I feel helpless because my life has been so far removed from theirs that there is next to nothing that I can do now that I am able to nurture and love them. It is as though we move in different Ven Circles, theirs labeled Long-Term Grief, and mine labeled Gratitude and the crossing between is too slim for a thin label called Trust and Hope. So celebration is a little bittersweet. I know that Race for the Cure represents only one of dozens of cancers, and though I am heartbroken by the pain of the several of my friends who suffer from them, I am SO glad that there is a space and time for celebration. Frankly, we - I - need a happy party for this. Happy, Happy 2nd Mother's Day!