I'm standing there at the start line at Calgary’s Relay for Life, watching a sea of yellow cancer survivors, old, young, men, women...all with a similar look of ‘I actually made it’ in their eyes.
They kicked off the event giving all of us onlooker’s inspiration and hope.
I was called to the start line with my golf cart to drive one of the survivors around the lap. When I arrived the lady was holding on to a man for support (literally, physically holding on to stand up), and the man was looking around wondering where this golf cart is. I went up to her and said “Hello, I’m here to drive you around the survivors lap”. She must have been at least 85-90. The man was beckoning her to get in the golf cart, she didn’t move. People standing around just looked at each other, silent and confused. She looked up at me with tear filled eyes and said “No, I’ll walk”. And off she went, shaky, wobbly, and determined as ever.
I thought for a minute about what this lady must have been through in her life, what her battle with cancer must have been like, the treatments, the sickness.
I thought about these glowing and happy people, and their fights with cancer... to have more days, to have back the health that they will never take for granted again. A wave of guilt fell over me, guilt for not appreciating every moment, for all the complaining about ridiculous things.
One was a grandpa doing the survivors lap with 2 little girls, each holding on to one hand, looking up at him proudly. One was a young girl that couldn’t have been older than 20. She could have been the poster child for ‘healthy’; it was stunning to me that this glowing and energetic young girl had fought off this monster of a disease. Their energy and strength lit up the field. I must have clapped for about...15 minutes..that’s a long time to be just be..clapping. Actually, mesmerized by the sea of yellow, I didn’t even realize I was clapping, then my hands turned numb. This is how we celebrate people, we clap.
We stood there and clapped, as to say ‘good job for being alive’.
They kicked off the event giving all of us onlooker’s inspiration and hope.
I was called to the start line with my golf cart to drive one of the survivors around the lap. When I arrived the lady was holding on to a man for support (literally, physically holding on to stand up), and the man was looking around wondering where this golf cart is. I went up to her and said “Hello, I’m here to drive you around the survivors lap”. She must have been at least 85-90. The man was beckoning her to get in the golf cart, she didn’t move. People standing around just looked at each other, silent and confused. She looked up at me with tear filled eyes and said “No, I’ll walk”. And off she went, shaky, wobbly, and determined as ever.
I thought for a minute about what this lady must have been through in her life, what her battle with cancer must have been like, the treatments, the sickness.
I thought about these glowing and happy people, and their fights with cancer... to have more days, to have back the health that they will never take for granted again. A wave of guilt fell over me, guilt for not appreciating every moment, for all the complaining about ridiculous things.
One was a grandpa doing the survivors lap with 2 little girls, each holding on to one hand, looking up at him proudly. One was a young girl that couldn’t have been older than 20. She could have been the poster child for ‘healthy’; it was stunning to me that this glowing and energetic young girl had fought off this monster of a disease. Their energy and strength lit up the field. I must have clapped for about...15 minutes..that’s a long time to be just be..clapping. Actually, mesmerized by the sea of yellow, I didn’t even realize I was clapping, then my hands turned numb. This is how we celebrate people, we clap.
We stood there and clapped, as to say ‘good job for being alive’.
Photos by Image Wave Photography
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