Karen's mother, Wanda, had cancer when she was in elementary school. As a child, Karen was shielded from the pain & the fear associated with her mother's illness, but looking back, it was a definitive life event, and it was hard on the rest of her family. Wanda continues to livestrong - some 20 years or so in remission, and it is partially in her honor that we ride.
When we first moved back to Massachusetts, we hadn't yet heard of the PMC. As fate would have it, the summer (2005), Ken's uncle Richard lost his battle with cancer at the end of July, and his services were held on the first weekend of August - the PMC weekend. We made the trek back to Hawaii for services that weekend, and would have had to miss the PMC anyway, had we planned to participate.
Ken and Uncle Richard were fairly close. Along with Ken's Aunt, they would take Ken, his sister, and sometimes his cousin on trips in the summer as children, which led to an atypically close relationship - almost like having a second set of parents. Even as an adult it is difficult to realize how quickly things can change and how quickly someone once seemingly invincible can disappear. The last time we had seen Uncle Richard was at Ken's grandfather's funeral, who had passed away from cancer in the fall of 2003. No one can see into the future, but I wish we had had more time to visit with him & Auntie that trip. It never even crossed our mind that he wouldn't still be there when we next went "home".
Ken's grandfather lost his battle with cancer in the fall of 2003. Papa, as he was known, had been asking for Ken to come visit during the last weeks of his life. Due to a military committment, Ken had to delay his trip home longer than anyone would have liked, but we were finally able to make arrangements to fly home to see Papa. We had family members tell Papa we were coming, to give him hope, and a reason to hang on a little longer if he so chose. But he couldn't. The night before we were to fly out, we received word that Papa had passed on. We didn't get to say goodbye. Suddenly our trip to visit had turned into a trip too late. We missed him literally by a matter of a day. It was told to us upon our arrival, that his last few hours were spent in and of hallucinations, and the last thing that Papa said to his son was that he was ready to go home (he was at home, but not the home he was talking about). When we got to Hawaii, at least we were able to help with the funeral preparations. We picked Papa up from the crematorium, and I can still feel the weight of his urn in my hands.
Cancer runs in both of our families. It also has affected a great many of our friends. To this end, we try to live a healthy lifestyle. We eat right, we eat organically when possible. We take care of our environment and limit what exposures to carcinogens we can. We wear sunscreen religiously. We don't smoke. We exercise - and by doing so, we raise money to fund cancer care and research to help others.
There is no way to turn back time and do things differently. But we can learn from our losses. We can also do our part to help avoid these situations in the future for other people. We can help create hope, and the PMC brings a great deal of hope to a great many people. There is nothing like spending a weekend riding with some 5,000 other riders who are all there for the same purpose. The hope that is generated in tremendous. I know the PMC is bittersweet for many, if not most, of it's participants and volunteers. There are a great many tears to be seen, but those tears, more often than not, are accompanied by smiles, and many times, by words or signs of thanks. There is nothing quite like seeing a child stand by a sign cheering & thanking you for helping save his life.
There is a boy named Jack. If you've watched the NECN coverage of this event, you might have seen Jack on TV. Each year since he was two years old, Jack has been at the Nickerson SP waterstop, next to a sign that reads "I'm __ now, thanks to you." Last year, I believe he was 11 years old. It's the little (or big) things like that which really stick with you.
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