Month: August 2023

It’s that time of year again. End of summer. Back to school. A change in the air from the hot, muggy, summer days to the crisp, cool air of fall. Ariella’s birthday. Fall festivals, apple and pumpkin picking, lots of family activities. Was always my favorite time of year. I’ve recently written about the shift I’ve experienced in my outlook and grief, and that hasn’t changed, but that doesn’t mean the pain of losing Ariella is gone and this time of year is especially difficult for me. A time of year full of promise, new beginnings, a literal new year in the Jewish calendar is now marked by missed milestones, moments stolen from us, and always the wondering.

As each year passes I have more and more difficulty imaging what Ariella would be like at this age. She would no longer be a child and I see her friends and kids her age and it breaks my heart over and over. And it feels like I lose her again and again. I shared a post on Facebook about things one man learned when he lost his son and one of them was keeping a journal of things about the child. Funny things he said and did, and things of that nature. I had done that a little bit but I know there was so much I missed that I no longer remember. I thought we would have forever to make memories that I didn’t feel the need to record all the little moments. I didn’t think that one day that would be all I had. Who would think that? Anyway, some random things I would love to share about my girl.

• She carried a shit ton of things in her hoodie pocket, most being rocks. And sometimes she would sleep with them. There was frequently dirt in her bed from rocks. And these weren’t small, pretty, rocks. These were just big, jagged, rocks. I don’t know how she carried so much stuff. Oh and this started when she was little but she continued to do this even as an 11-year-old.
• Her favorite color was light blue but sometimes she would choose teal.
• She loved unicorns. And penguins.
• She was a prankster. She silly stringed her doctors and squirted them with water from syringes. She scared the crap out of a nurse by popping up from under the covers with a scary clown mask. One of her doctors gave her a fart machine and Ariella thought it was the greatest thing ever. After she died we found a list of pranks that she wanted to do on her friends.
• She had a list of tattoos that she wanted to get when she was old enough including a shark fin, peanut butter and jelly sandwich (this was supposed to be with a friend), a yin yang (also with a friend), an infinity sign, and I think a couple others (I do have the list, will have to check it again).
• She had a temper. She could go from zero to insane in a matter of seconds.
• She was sweet and generous and loving. She gave the best hugs.
• She was so freaking slow! When doing anything and everything!
• When she was little she called the remote a cremote, milk was gulk, a tunnel was a nunnel, and Barnes and Noble was Barnes and Narble. She said “what you said?” Instead of what did you say? And little billit instead of little bit.
• She loved photography and had a pretty good eye when composing a picture.
• She loved to make up dances and video herself.
• She was a dancer. Tap was her favorite.
• She was bossy (a leader?) but kids flocked to her. One day we were at a friends with a bunch of kids there and she had all the kids lined up behind her following her around the yard like the pied piper.
• She was the queen of eye rolling.
• She was friends with everyone and never held a grudge.
• One time she was so angry about being asked to wash her hands that kneeled on a step stool, put her head on the floor with her legs on the stool, and stayed there upside down a good while. She was definitely stubborn.
• She loved to read and still loved when we read to her. She was working her way through Harry Potter.
• She loved the beach. Ocean City was one of her favorite places. And she loved the Haunted House on the boardwalk.
• She was the furthest thing from a picky eater and she especially loved steak and sushi. She didn’t have much of a sweet tooth though she loved sour candy.
• She loved to talk. A lot.
• She was loud. Very, very, loud.
• She loved going to New York and seeing musicals. Wicked and Aladdin were her favorites. She got to see School of Rock through Do it For The Love Foundation and got to meet the cast and get a backstage tour,
• She loved volunteering at the Human Society. She got to pet and play with the cats.
• Ari’s Bears was her idea and she used her own money to get it started. She came up with the logo design as well.
• She was fearless. Her 11th birthday party was at an indoor skydiving place. Most of the kids did it but all were nervous at first. Not Ariella. At amusement parks the bigger, crazier the ride, the better. She loved going on boats but only if they went fast. She went flying down hills on her scooter and skateboard.
• She was a great hula hooper (she got that from me),
• She loved to ice skate.
• She was a great cuddler.
• She always wanted to comfort others who were sad.
• She was messy.
• She was strong and resilient and brave and optimistic.
• She was independent but also still loved spending time with us.
• Every once in a while she would say she wanted a sibling but mostly she said our family of three was perfect.
• She was sassy and could back talk like a teenager.
• She was thoughtful.
• She was kind, caring, and compassionate.
• She hated dressing up. Sweats were her outfit of choice.
• She donated her hair twice for wigs, way before cancer was on our radar.
• She was a great friend.
• She was the best daughter.

A while back I wrote some posts about running, about what running means to me and why I love it (Just Run), (Finding Meaning in Running), (Running Towards Memories) and I have realized lately that I have been losing that. My running has been goal oriented with training cycle after training cycle and I have no longer been fueled by my desire just to move, to be outside, but instead by paces, distances, and qualifiers. I did enjoy that, for a time. I liked seeing my progress, seeing what my body can do, achieving PRs, but now it just feels like a chore. Taking away all that I love about the sport.

The other day I had a bad run. A really bad run. Can’t remember the last time I had a run so miserable. Even when I was running on a stress fracture. And in between uninhibitedly cursing, contemplating calling my coach or an Uber to come get me, or just laying on the ground until another runner came along, I truly questioned why I was doing this. I enjoyed the training. I loved the exhilaration after completing a challenging workout. I looked forward to the long runs. I liked trying to achieve new goals. I thrived on the structure and plan, the concreteness of trying to achieve certain paces, of going a certain distance. Until I didn’t. My body needs a break. My mind needs a break. When I was on the trek and had a chance to run, whether it was to conquer the hills or just get some miles in, all I cared about was that I was running.  I wasn’t worried about pace, or time, or PRs. I just wanted to soar. To feel the ground beneath my feet and wind in my face. When I got home from the trek the thought of continuing to train for the marathon just no longer appealed to me. Running was becoming a chore rather than a pleasure. I had just completed 2 back to back marathons plus half a training cycle prior to that where I got injured. I was going to take a break after this cycle but wow I do not want to go out there for another 18-miler or 20-miler right now. I dropped down to the half marathon distance and while there is disappointment that I didn’t have a better training cycle, there is a much greater sense of relief. If I want to go out and run, I can. If I’m not feeling it then I don’t have to.

I want to get back to running just for the sake of running (at least for now). To be in nature, to not care about anything but how it feels, to hear the trees rustling in the wind and the birds chirping. To feel the crunch of leaves beneath my shoes. To be present in my surroundings rather than using music to distract me while trying to go faster for longer. I want to run with the joy I used to have, with the peace I felt when running on the trek, with the carefreeness of a child. I am going to try some trail running. If I don’t break my neck tripping over a root I think it can be just what my soul needs to help revive my love of running.

As mentioned previously, when I set off to do this trek it wasn’t with the intention of trying to find myself or some such shit. It just seemed like an epic challenge for a good cause and I wanted to see if I could do it. But you can’t do something like that and not learn some things. So in no particular order, here are some things I learned on the trek.

• That bike riding is most definitely not for me
• That I can open a beer bottle without a bottle opener
• Some new words
• That I can be happy, maybe not 10/10 happy, but up there, and that I’m ready to be happy
• That I can be silly, playful, and carefree
• About the trekkers and support crew
• That I can be more gutsy and less anxious
• That I can trip over nothing, frequently
• About succulents
• That life is beautiful even with its ups and downs (I once knew this and now I know it again)
• That it’s possible for me to not have an appetite (that never happens)
• That I don’t need to suffer anymore
• What it’s like to see in color again
• About 7 incredible kids
• That walking for hours is quite meditative BUT…
• Running is still my happy place
• That you shouldn’t run hard after eating pizza and half a chicken sandwich
• That this physical and emotional challenge did not come even the slightest bit close to what Ariella and the other children endure(d)
• To be careful when opening a package of chews
• That slurpees expand
• That I can doze off during a tattoo (ok this didn’t happen during the trek but the day after it ended and it commemorated the trek so it counts)
• That I want to live: Ok. So this one is the big one. For early readers of my blog you’ll know that while I was not suicidal I frequently begged G-d to die. I pictured driving my car off a bridge or into a tree. I begged Ariella and my dad to take me with them. While I would not have done anything about it, I did not want to live. As time went on, I no longer felt quite so desperate to die but I would have welcomed death had it come. I most definitely did not fear death. I didn’t feel I had any purpose, anything to live for. With no other children to care for I felt aimless and that life was meaningless. Picturing another 40 years or so living like that was horrifying. But during the trek I felt happy, and I feel happy still. Parts of me that had been dormant for so long came alive again. I realized I can live, not merely survive. And I realized that I actually WANT to live.

When I first showed up at the meeting spot before heading to Deep Creek Lake, just about everyone there was a total stranger. It didn’t take long though before we started getting to know each other, listening to each others’ stories, and learning why they were doing this. These people made the trek what it was. Everyone had their struggles and everyone had their strengths and we all were able to help each other through this immense challenge. And watching everyone power through and get past their difficulties was quite inspiring.

Let’s start with David. David who had knee surgery less than a year ago and was still experiencing discomfort. He was determined to complete the miles, even when in pain. When he could not do the walking park he jumped on the bike and rode those miles, often trying to get traffic to slow down for the walkers, along the busy, curvy street. There were several times he doubted he could continue but he didn’t quit. Beth was who I wished I could have been. Also terrified on the bike she didn’t let that stop her from riding the treacherous mountain roads. She faced her fears head-on and kicked ass. She also used her strength to run up hills and mountains, leaving others in the dust. Jacki exhibited a quiet strength, looking like she was just out on a Sunday stroll, while Kenny was more vocal, ensuring everyone it was a “piece of cake” and being sure to encourage those he knew were struggling. Michael with his grit and determination did not let his struggles stop him and was always ready with a song to pass the time and a kind word for those who needed it. Stealthy Mark could sneak up on anyone and could make you laugh with his deadpan humor. He’s also just a little bit competitive, but good naturedly. And Justin. Who started the whole thing. Who would never leave a single word unsaid to promote his cause. He started the trek alone 10 years ago and now he has an amazing team of trekkers and support crew that return year after year. He kept everyone going and I would bet on him in a scuffle. The attention he brings to childhood cancer is important and highlighting the children and their families puts faces to the disease, making it personal. (sounds like we were some ragtag version of The Breakfast Club).

We were more than just a group of people walking and cycling across the state. The support crew are essential and I would dare to say they have the harder job. We just had to walk or ride. No thinking, no logistics, just move. The support crew, they had countless tasks to take care of to make sure we were hydrated and fed and had all the supplies we needed. Loading and unloading, lifting, filling bottles, replenishing the supplies, putting on band aids, making sure no one got dead, and being at all the stops. Their days were long and yet they managed to stay upbeat and encouraging, helping us power through. There was Anna who allowed us to trash her van with sweaty, smelly clothes, food wrappers, trekking poles, and all sorts of other detritus. She drove us to the start points and from the end points, and even drove some of us home after the trek ended. She took no shit and made sure to keep things moving. Without her we might still be at a rest stop. Sharon aka Shabay. There is no way to describe her energy. If only it could be bottled. I will be forever grateful to Sharon for making sure I took the chance to fly when I needed it. Cathi I think had one of the best roles. She is the family liaison and is fortunate to get to spend time with the families we honor. And Val making sure we were fed and had rooms to sleep in. I can’t forget Larry who is the calm balance to the frenetic energy. Even-keeled and patient, Larry makes sure everyone knows where they are going (though there was a sketchy pin to Anna when I was riding with her, leading us down some private dead-end drive with no trespassing signs), what time they have to be there, and whether we are on or off schedule. He is the luggage and bike loader/unloader and makes sure to keep everything moving. And ironically he kept Justin apprised of the weather.

I spent a good amount of time with the media team when the others were biking and we had a lot of laughs. Bryna who would do anything for the shot, including getting shoved into a squall, trying to boost the social media presence. She was careful to capture the emotions of the day or story, but not be intrusive. She also is making the golf ball cannon at our golf tournament possible. Katrina who has no fear when trying to make things happen such as closing roads and stopping traffic, but is sensitive enough to remove a dead cat from the street. And Jeff who stayed up late editing the videos and was ready early the next day to do it all again. He also will do anything for the shot, like staying out when the apocalypse is approaching . Jeff is a sponsor for our golf tournament and is going to make a video for Ari’s Bears and I can’t wait to see what he comes up with. I know it will be incredible.

Shannon worked behind the scenes for the kids trek and much, much, more , while continuing to treat the children they serve. Her relationships with the families and children is truly something special. I know this because I witnessed it with Ariella. Ariella loved Shannon and Justin and even texted Shannon a few times. Shannon made it a point to be with Ariella when Ariella died. Watching anyone die is heartbreaking. Watching a child die is excruciating. Someone who chooses to be there is exceptional.

None of these words really fully capture the essence of these people and the connections we made. But the trek wasn’t just about us or Ariella or raising money. It was also about having this experience with others, becoming a family, sharing the struggles and the triumphs. Having someone else understand what we are going through. Whatever happens moving forward we will always have this to tie us together.

This may be a Part I because I will be reflecting on this experience for quite a while, but just felt like writing. Reality has hit a bit hard. I’ve been buffered from life basically and woke this morning with many things on my list that I was not able to address on the trek. After paring down my emails while doing laundry I had some other challenges to face. During the trek emotions ran high at times and some realities came to light. That is not just my story to tell so I won’t be sharing it. I’ll just say I am doing some soul searching.

I feel pretty wrecked at the moment. And yet I also feel at peace. Because I realized during the trek that I actually can be joyful and carefree, without guilt. I can live with reckless abandon. Just let go, not care what anyone thinks, and actually enjoy life. I can be silly and unrestrained and it’s okay. I feel different. Definitely changed. Even more willing to step out of my comfort zone. My anxiety, which is typically the main character in the story of my life, took a secondary role. Instead my playfulness and lightheartedness broke through. I hardly recognized myself. I’m sure it will come and go but I know it’s in there.

I’m not sure what will happen in the days and weeks to come. I do know that I want to live with no regrets (or at least as few regrets as possible). I’ve been stuck and this is not to say that I’m moving on from Ariella’s death. There is no moving on from that. But there is moving through, carrying the grief with me, while I experience the highs and lows of a life well-lived. Knowing that there is room for all of it. The happiness, the tears, the fear, the hope, the sorrow. What better way to honor Ariella than to bring her with me as I experience all that life has to offer.

As mentioned previously I didn’t join this trek as a way of finding myself. I joined for Ariella of course, and the other children, and to challenge myself, but I wasn’t expecting any kind of aha moment. But there were serendipitous moments where I truly felt happy and I realized that I don’t need to suffer any more. That doesn’t mean the pain is gone, but I can find the things that bring some happiness and let go of those that don’t.

In all honesty most of Day 7 is kind of a wash for me. It’s mostly biking so I’m not doing much trekking until about 2 miles outside of OC, which of course is upsetting. I did get in some running miles before we rolled out giving me some of that movement and physicality I crave and at least allowed me to make up some missed miles.

The finale of the trek was a 2-mile walk into Ocean City, MD, all the way into the ocean. This was absolutely the most challenging leg of the trek for me. The last time I was in Ocean City was with Ariella. She loved everything about Ocean City, the beach, the ocean, the rides (the bigger and faster the better), the boardwalk, the haunted house. Just being there brought back so many memories. My emotions were impossible to manage and I didn’t try. The tears were flowing, I was holding the kids we walked for, both in my hands on the sign and in my heart, and made that painful trek down the boardwalk, across the beach, into the ocean. Before we got to the water I saw Ariella’s friend and just grabbed her and held her, missing so much the feeling of Ariella in my arms, her arms squeezing me tight. The tears kept falling. Arm-in-arm David, Sydney, and I walked down to the edge of the world and stepped into the water with the rest of the trek team. This was it. One challenging week. And it was exciting and happy and we were all so proud and accomplished, and I was so very sad. After others came out of the water I just stood at its edge, staring out into the beyond, and just felt so small. I should have felt larger than life and in some ways I did but I also just felt so insignificant. I was overwhelmed just trying to take it all in. I wanted to walk all the way into the water and just let the current carry me away. As we walked away from the water I felt I was walking away from something rather than back toward something. Maybe a little of both.

I cannot possibly capture the emotions and essence of the trek with mere words. It’s something you just have to experience. It is inspiring, it is overwhelming, it is challenging, it is exhausting. Emotions run high. There were times it was fun and stretches that were boring. It brings out every emotion possible. Everyone had their moments where they felt strong and unstoppable and their moments where they struggled. But we all had each others’ backs and encouraged each other through those challenging times. Looking back to the beginning of the week, it all seems so surreal. Sunday seems so far away and yet the week flew by. We were completely out of real life for a week, in a trek bubble. Early mornings, long days, and being with the same people day in and out. The idea of completing something so magnificent is quite daunting but when you are out there walking, time just passes, and somehow so do the miles. It became meditative and therapeutic. We spent all our time with our fellow trekkers and incredible support team. Strangers to begin with we quickly bonded and became a family. We learned each others’ quirks and habits and there was a lot of good-natured teasing and humor. It is a special thing to share this experience with others.

I’m not ready or able to begin processing this experience and I’m not sure how to go back to reality. But I have learned some things about myself and rediscovered parts of me that I forgot existed. I have been living in the dark for so long and I feel like I am now emerging into the light.

On the way home, coming off the high of the culmination of the week, we learned of a second relapse of another child we know. Life sure is a rollercoaster.

The days are beginning to blur, clearly, since I said it was day 5, not 6 on my Instagram post earlier this morning. Sat outside and enjoyed a gorgeous sunrise over the water, just taking in the beauty of my surroundings. There was a gentle breeze kissing my skin and lifting my hair, and I just got lost in the tranquility of the moment. Soon enough it was time to get the day rolling.

Another trekktacular (#neoligism #word of the day) day was ahead of us. A sunny and hot walk followed by a bike ride. I don’t have much to write about this day, not as noteworthy as some of the others. Just a long, hot, trek. Some hills but mostly flat, very boring stretch of road. Once again bummed about the biking but it is what it is. Enjoyed shenanigans with the media crew while waiting for the cyclists to finish. Dinner at Outback and the day was a wrap.

Not much else to say about the day so going to end it there. It’s hard to believe this experience is almost over. It’s been life changing for sure. Will have a lot to process once it’s all over.  

Today was a great day. Still didn’t get a ton of sleep and woke up early, but wide awake and refreshed. And ravenous. Had a little bit of drama over cheerios and cookies with the hotel staff but came out unscathed in a great mood, ready for the day. We headed out on foot from Elkridge to the Kids Trek where I was surprised by my mom and aunt! It was great to have them there, sharing this experience with us. At the end of the trek Ari’s Bears was there with bears to stuff for all the participants; kids, parents, and the entire trek team and support staff. It meant a lot to be able to share Ari’s Bears and more importantly Ariella with the team. The most special moment was also the most unexpected. We FaceTimed with the kid of the day and learned she had actually received an Ari’s Bear from Ariella herself. I’m convinced that things like this just don’t happen, there are no coincidences, and though wrought with emotion, it was such a special moment.

Following the Kids Trek we walked along the B&A trail for a couple miles, for the transition to the bike. There were about 11 miles left on the trail for the bike ride and I really just wanted to run. I was itching to just open up, take off, and fly. I could feel it in my entire body (either that or the slice of pizza and half a chicken sandwich I had just eaten). It takes some time to transition to the bikes so while I knew I wouldn’t be able to run the whole cycling distance, I figured I could get several miles in. I was going back and forth with David and some others, trying to figure out the logistics, when I was pretty much ordered to RUN!!!!!!, so run I did. And it was so great. Away from the cacophony (#word of the day) of the street on the trail I was able to run freely, with both joy and sorrow. I ran just about 6 miles and it was just what I needed (thank you Sharon for yelling in my ear and picking me up). When I was finished my run I felt refreshed and rejuvenated and ready for the next leg. We headed on foot into Annapolis where we got on a nice but not ostentatious (#word of the day) boat for a ride across the bay. Hard to believe that just a few days ago we were in the mountatins, and now we made it to the Eastern Shore. The day ended on Kent Island with a beautiful sunset, fitting for the day.

The miracle of the day was the weather. The forecast was not looking promising but we could not have asked for a better day. It began overcast with a breeze and while it rained during the kids trek, it didn’t last for long and it felt good. When we made it into Annapolis the sun was coming out, making for a beautiful boat ride. Another short storm on the eastern shore caused just a minor delay, and led into a beautiful evening on the water.

When planning and anticipating this trek I could not imagine that I would have felt so good after so many days. But I do. I feel good, I feel strong, and I’m looking forward to tomorrow.

The sleeplessness continues and this morning I think I actually dozed off while leaning against a wall. I also dozed off multiple other times throughout the day. Not sure why I’m not sleeping but it’s beginning to catch up with me. I also had no appetite this morning which is definitely not at all like me. Other than that I’m feeling good, physically. Mentally and emotionally, I feel battered and bruised. The lack of sleep certainly doesn’t help and though I know after all the torment I ultimately made the right decision, I absolutely hate that I am not on a bike right now with the others. If I could walk those miles, I would. I have been relishing the physicality of this challenge. I didn’t realize how much I needed it. I feel raw and spent and emotionally wrung out but also cleansed, like I’m ridding my mind of the invasive thoughts and demons, even if just temporarily. When I was running up those hills, the harder I ran and the worst I felt physically, the better I felt emotionally. Maybe I need the pain to quiet my mind of everything else and erase the emotional pain. Maybe I’m just trying to make myself completely numb. Maybe I just feel like I need to punish myself. Even after living this so-called life for over 4 years I just don’t know. What I do know is that I have to do whatever I can to survive.

Today’s trek was from Frederick to Sykesville, through Ellicott City and Patapsco State Park, finishing at the hotel in Elkridge. I spent my day with the media crew. I enjoyed my time with them very much but it also wasn’t where I really wanted to be. I guess I haven’t quite come to terms with not fully completing the trek. I’m proud of what I have done and proud of what I will continue to do but still. It’s not what I envisioned. All that to say, I was pretty cantankerous (#word of the day) for a good part of the day. I was tired, I was missing out, and I was still feeling pretty emotional. And I continued to have no appetite. Just wasn’t feeling the vibe.

My mood improved as the day went on and I actually ended up having a blast with the media team. And while I did once again have some sadness with missing out, I enjoyed being able to see and cheer on the cyclists in various locations. And I got to better know the other members of the team that I hadn’t yet spent much time with. I laughed a lot which is always good for the soul.

I’m still not myself though. My appetite continues to be nonexistent which worries me for tomorrow. I’m forcing myself to get down what I can but I know it hasn’t been enough. I don’t feel poorly otherwise but this is affecting my mental state. I have been feeling great so far and I want to begin tomorrow feeling strong and ready.

Another night of little sleep, another early morning. Today was the perfect day to face my fear. The day was to start with a flat, 10-mile bike ride on a paved trail. This was the time to get some biking miles in. The BWI loop is more difficult and I survived that so this would be a piece of cake (TM Kenny). The air was cool but my anxiety was high. My hands were shaking but this was not something I hadn’t done before. Just a flat, 10 miles. This trek isn’t a finding myself journey where I discover who I really am or some such shit, but I do expect to learn some things about myself. Today I learned, or really confirmed, what I already suspected. I am most definitely not a bicycle person. I started off shaky but as the ride went on felt a little better, a little more confident, though by no means fully comfortable. But anyway, I had excellent support and scintillating conversation making the miles fly by (or not because I really could not wait to get off the bike). I finished without incident (other than losing a few years of my life riding over roots, dodging branches, passing other cyclists and the random truck coming from the opposite direction to remove a downed tree, and riding between gates) and immediately composed the Bike For Sale ad in my head. I do think I would have done better on a hybrid bike, something with bigger tires, a bit more stable but what’s done is done. Biking is not my thing and that’s okay. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will not be riding with the others. Well, maybe not. It’s hard not to be disappointed, I wanted to complete all the miles, but I was always apprehensive about the bike and I tried. At least I can say I tried. Sometimes that just has to be enough.

Next up was the walking portion of the day. And for a good while I took the time to just walk by myself. I quieted my mind, took in my surroundings, and was just present. Focusing on my breath, the sounds of my feet connecting with the ground, noticing the wind kissing my skin, grounding myself in the moment. I often ran hard uphill today, running emotionally, running for those who can’t, always running for Ariella. And once again I soared down the downhills. It was cathartic and exactly what I needed. This is a walking journey but running truly is my happy place. The discomfort coupled with the exhilaration, the release of just everything, the letting go.

The trek didn’t end there. There was some more biking (not for me) ending up in the town of Frederick where we had a crowd waiting, including the child being honored for that day. I have met and followed so many children with cancer who have died. My heart breaks each time and meeting new children with cancer guts me. I have such a wide range of emotions that threaten to completely overwhelm me. Sadness that there is yet another child with cancer. There are just too many. Happiness that at least for now the child is surviving. Fear of getting to know another child that may die. And always jealousy. Jealous that those families still have their child. And then there is the guilt for feeling jealous. I want more than anything for no more children to die from cancer. But I also want my child to not have died.

In a poignant moment we were introduced to another family whose daughter had died. Well David had actually met the father before but I had not met either parent. No hesitation. We hugged, we held each other, we cried, our burden lifted a little while we took on the burden of another grieving parent. No words necessary. Just being together in that moment. Unfortunately we all know. Without explanation. We know each others’ pain and heartache. We know what it’s like to be suffocated by grief, and we know what it’s like to have your family shattered, never to be fixed. We know what it’s like to have a hole that can never be filled and we know the feelings of the guilt and the what ifs and to not be able to have a happy moment that’s not tainted with sadness. And it’s a bittersweet comfort to be with someone else who knows. Because we don’t want anyone else to be going through this horror but it helps to know we are not alone.

I’m not sure how I feel about the day overall. A lot of conflicting emotions. Proud I got on the bike but disappointed that I didn’t increase my comfort and will now miss a lot of miles. The walk actually was great. I needed that freeing time to myself and then, when I was ready, the time conversing with kindred souls was also much needed. I’ll just leave it that today was therapeutic.