Sunday, July 12, 2009

Oh What a Night

I've just returned home from a night of walking in circles to help cure cancers. Giving money is one wonderful thing. Giving my time, well, I feel vested. To my personal survivor - of course you are a survivor. How could you not be? I, to be sure you hear it again, appreciate your efforts, determination, will, grit and active participation in making sure you are with us now. To my personal survivor, I love you.
Walking around the track umpteen times, especially after the luminaries were lit, is a constant source of reminders (each and every candle) of what we are trying to achieve. For those who are no longer with us, you are not forgotten. Cancer isn't what it used to be. We are now inoculating young women against cervical cancer. Early detection for so many cancers out there now means less invasive cures and a much higher survival rate - possibly dying of old age for god's sake.

To be sure every lap was fun and the conversations were crazy and great laughs. Did you know, for instance, that when the fog rolls in at night I was told it will creep up on one my size and suck one in, never to be seen again? I let my informer know I'd eaten an extra slice of pizza to make sure I was not that size that gets sucked in. That seemed to take care of the problem.

The hole in the fence where The Fog will creep in to suck one in, never to be seen again. Mt Si in the background - probably full of people wondering where The Fog has dropped them.

Here's a question for Oprah. What happens to all those "Locks of Love"? I mean really, there are warehouses of hair that one rarely hears of that supposedly go toward making wigs for those that are in sickness and would like to hold some semblance of normalcy. Talking to survivors last night no one knows who is getting these wigs. My friend had her own hair cut and made into a wig for her days after chemotherapy. She never heard a peep of the "Locks of Love" being available to her. What's the scoop? Who gets these locks?

The volunteers that pulled this event together did a great job in my opinion. The food was plentiful. Events went off without a hitch. The Luminaria ceremony was moving and well done. The music and entertainment was excellent and non-stop. The puppeteer was truly gifted. And the last singer of the night, one man and a guitar was just to my liking (Jason Mraz and John Mayer covers - very nice ending with "Say What You Need To Say").

For someone that signed up on a Wednesday for a Saturday event I raised $115. Not bad for no effort on my part. A big, monsterous thank you to those who sent me over there with checks. The weather was perfect as it could be in July in the northwest mountains. Warm and sunny on Saturday afternoon. A little cooler (and dark) all night long. And just as I got on the freeway this morning to come home it started to rain. Timing is everything.


  1. I commend you for doing a very positive thing to help others. Keepup the good work!

  2. You and the others who came out all deservre to be applauded, Sarah.

    I hope you sleep well tonight and I hope your feet don't hurt too much.

  3. Sleep well tonight? Hell, I slept all this afternoon.


  4. I'm glad your friend is a survivor. That makes it all that much more personal. It would be nice to have carte blanche over the running of a research lab. These things ought to be fixable.