Cancer of the Heart

Cancer is a vicious disease that affects everyone, somehow. It doesn’t have to be in you to kill you. It eats away at your heart and your soul – and it questions every determined bone in your body. It will beat you down in ways you never expect, and challenge every emotion you can possibly feel. Every form of cancer, to the people around it, is cancer of the Heart.

A mere mention of the word takes your legs out from under you – and you spend the next how many years of your life trying to find them again. You read up to get informed of the latest procedures and medications, you run races that raise money for the fight, you even wear a plastic bracelet so you never forget for a breathing moment who you were before the disease entered your life and who you are now because of it. And you will never be the same.

I went for a run the other day – it was 45 degrees and raining. I get asked if I’m crazy or if running is worth being cold and wet. Crazy – maybe – worth getting cold and wet - absolutely. Running is my way of feeling alive, and for even a brief moment, in control. It has always been my escape, for better or worse. I get asked how I can put myself through the screaming pain in my knees, doesn’t it hurt? Every freakin’ step I take! But feeling pain is a hard way to know that you are in fact still alive.

When I lost my Mom to cancer this year – I lost my desire to do the one thing I loved more than anything - running. Yet another important part of my life this disease took from me. The passion, the desire, and the heart were all so distant from that point on. Mom was gone and running just seemed too sad for me. We had gotten into a routine that I looked forward to every day. Now there would be no more texts before a run and calls after to tell her how I did or how I felt. No more sending her cool pictures of me at the finish line of a race or running in a field of snow on a beautiful Winters day. No more hearing her say “Oh sweetie just be careful you don’t push yourself.” I was afraid that my mind would wander off and think about Mom and her pain and suffering over the years and how there was nothing I could do because I overwhelmed myself with hopelessness.

Hope is a cruel word – you can survive on it until the results you wanted don’t arise and then you dwell on being hopeless because it’s easier. I can’t cure disease and I can’t magically take away all the pain it causes. Therefore, all hope must be lost. But in the end, being hopeless actually takes more energy than having hope, and giving hope to others.

So with a heart, that has been damaged and kicked around by cancer, I am finding HOPE again. I have to – for Mom, for the husband she lost, for my aunt who is currently suffering, and for the mothers of some of my dearest friends – Mama Saslow, Mama Pastor, Mama Karp, Mama Feldman –  for all of them I will run; hot, cold, rain, or snow – I will do it because cancer doesn’t take a break when it’s raining or when it’s too cold out to feel your hands, it never stops…It never takes a break…

This Sunday I will run, the appropriately named, Race for HOPE in honor of Dorothy Feldman and anyone else fighting a brain tumor. It’s because of her strength that I will find my strength within again and run this race with pride. And I will do it with many loving thoughts of my Mom. I will find my passion for running again, because that is where my heart is happy, and my heart will not steer me wrong. Not after all it has been through.

Looking into the faces of the people in the crowd and all of the participants at these races, I see what HOPE looks like. And understand why we all need it and that we can never lose it.

We all need to push through the sadness and self pitying that cancer puts you through and find a race or a walk near you to participate in – donate online – wear a plastic bracelet – believe that one day cancer will not tear apart our hearts and continue to take away the ones we love.

By reading this, you have been affected by cancer.

Filling the Void

I had package on my doorstep the other day, and my stomach sank. I knew it wasn’t from my mom.  I have been so used to my mom sending me packages out of the blue with a little something she found that I might like – or magazines that I may want – or just a little card to say I love you.  Who doesn’t like to get presents? I should have been excited – but my heart hasn’t healed yet. And I am not sure it ever will.

Filling the void - It is a task that never seems to have a conclusive end. How do you know when you have filled the hole that was left by the death of a loved one? Not just any loved one, your most loved one of all – your mom. How do even begin to try?

When my parents divorced, I was three years old, and completely swallowed in a feeling of desertion. When one parent doesn’t come home at night any more – its pretty safe to assume the other will stop coming home as well. My poor mother, struggling with 2-3 jobs at a time to raise two kids on her own, had to fight off a crying child every day when she tried to leave for work. She had to leave the extra 15 minutes every morning to comfort me and reassure me that she would NEVER leave.  Eventually I believed her – because she did in fact come home every night. But deep down, as I got older and realized all of the dangers in the world around us, I started waiting by the door for her to come home, and I would cry if she were running late. This was before cell phones, so you really couldn’t check in too often. But again mom continued to reassure me that she was never going to leave me. And keeping her word, came home every night.

When she was diagnosed with Cancer in 2004, all of those fears of desertion and being alone came back. Oh my God – I am going to lose my mom – my best friend – the person I love most in this world. What will I do? Who will I talk to when I am sad? Who will I call when I need advice? Where will I go for the holidays? Who will make me smile the way she did? Once I got over the shock of hearing the words “You have to come home, mom has Cancer” my body gave out on me. I cried hysterically, I vomited about three times, and I could feel my heart breaking apart inside me. I hopped on the next plane out from Hawaii where I was shooting at the time, and I rushed to be by her side in the hospital. She was in bad shape and the doctors were very concerned.  Our whole family was bracing for what appeared to be the end. But what I remember is her looking up at me over her oxygen mask when I walked in the door, and that sparkle in her eye that got me through some of the toughest moments in my life was still there. Was I scared – hell yes? But deep down I knew this was not the end. I was not saying goodbye. She was not leaving me. Not yet!

It took months in a hospital, being by her side through all of it, bathing her, feeding her, strapping on the oxygen tank and taking her for small slow walks when she was able.  She made it through harsh and vigorous chemo treatments, countless blood transfusions, and a stem cell transplant. I held her hand when they stuffed a needle in her throat to biopsy her thyroid for possible cancer. I slept in a chair, showered in a guest bath, and when mom would dose off I would go out in the hall and try to do a little work on a computer the nurses set up for me. Time seemed to drag on, but she was fighting and her eyes told me we would make it through this.

All of the love and support and her undeterred strength forced that cancer into remission – and after months in a hospital she was on her way home.  Bald and smiling – we conquered our highest mountain yet – Mom still didn’t leave me.

This world has thrown many things at me, and at times I have succumbed and went down crying and feeling depleted. But I always had amazing support from people around me. I always had my mom’s hand there to pick me up, bathing me, feeding me at my hardest hit times. I always had her smile and belief in my strength.  And now I have to find a way to get through the dimming of the light of my life without her in front of me.

Each Day I have to find a way to make it through without her, without her smile, her laugh, encouragement, and pride. If a day goes by where I don’t think of her, am I forgetting her? Disrespecting her? Or trying to move on?  Do I stick with holiday traditions that I enjoyed so much with her? Or do I make my own because the pain of not having her to share our traditions is too great? Is that filling a void or making it bigger.

I cry every day. That’s not an exaggeration – its fact.

Cancer took away my mom’s spirit 5 years ago – but it did not take away her passion to live and ability to love. Unfortunately, in the end, the bad guy won.

I can’t let this world break my heart. It may have taken a piece of it away, but the ability to heal still exists in me. I have to know that the void isn’t in need of filling more than it is accepting. Accepting that mom’s love can still be as strong as it always was even if I can’t hear her voice. (I miss her voice so much) She will always be a part of me. She gave me her beautiful smile that I look at every day in the mirror and see her smiling back at me. She gave me the tools to love and to be loved, and to understand what she always tried to tell me – that she will never leave me.

My Brother, My Heart

I am proud to say I spent this past weekend on my Butz in front of the fireplace doing nothing but watching TV and catching up on my Sports Illustrated reading. Good Times!!
That’s when I came across an article comparing Thomas and Julius Jones. They are brothers that both play in the NFL. I’m not sure why I found this so interesting – maybe it’s because I respect both of their abilities on the field. Maybe it’s because I am always intrigued by siblings in the same sport professionally – what jersey does mom wear on game day? I always wondered how hard I would actually hit my own brother if we were ever on the field for opposite teams. My guess is as hard as it takes! …But not too hard to get mama angry!

In this article, the writer asked each of them 9 questions about the other brother, and one of the answers summed up everything I feel about mine.
1. Vitals – I would say my brother is 36 very tall, average weight, slightly balding, and played varsity tennis in high school. He would say I am 32; average height and weight (5’7” 142 lbs.) crazy blond hair and I played professional women’s football for three years.
2. 2007 Earnings - As we are not professional athletes we do not have to publicly note our earnings – we would both say that the other is comfortable.
3. Cost of bobble head on Ebay – Both would have to answer $0.00 – though I think he would proudly add a “stay tuned” to my bobble head price.
4. Big Game – I would say his big game is every day trying to raise two kids. He would say my big game was winning the first NWFL championship game in 2001.
5. I’m better than my brother/sister because – Clearly my brother’s answer would match Thomas Jones’ answer of “I am older and wiser.” I would have to say I am better because my shirt says “Mom likes me best.”
6. He/She is better than me because – I would say he is a more sincere person and has better knees. I think he would say I take more risks to achieve my goals. Thanks bro!
7. My brother/sister is secretly afraid of – This is where my answer would match Thomas Jones’ in that my brother is also afraid of spiders. I think my brother would hesitate on this one, as my list is surprisingly long. But I know he would include being in the dark, lightning, and sharks.
8. Who wins a fight – I would say I do and he would agree.
9. Why I love him – I’m not sure what my brother’s answer would be, I know he loves me and he is proud of me, but I won’t begin to put words in his mouth on this one. My answer – would be the same as Julius Jones’ answer – the answer that has stuck with me for four days. An answer that is so simple and yet so brilliant. I love my brother because he’s my heart.

I do love my brother that deeply and with that much of me. The reasons for this love grow everyday. I love him for spending time with me as a child, teaching me to throw a football with the most perfect spiral, teaching me to ride a bike and to drive. I love him for his strength and courage in helping our mom, a single mom, raise me. I love him for being the peacemaker when I was an out of control, never wrong, teenager. I love him for giving me money to pay for a new engine in my car. I love him for being the father figure in my life and for being the amazing father he is to his kids. I love the way he loves our mom and his family. I love him for accepting me, as I am, tattooed, pierced, and gay. He has made me who I am and he continues to push me and encourage me. I will never fall as long as he is behind me. When I think of him I smile.
I love my brother Paul, because he is my heart.

MY LEGACY, SUCH AS IT IS

When asked where I went to school, I am very proud to say to people, I graduated from Beaver College. I will always refer to my school as Beaver College, or The Beav, even though it has taken on the name of Arcadia University – to each his own.
Why do I bring up The Beav? I recently visited the campus and met up with Jeff Ewing, Dean of Students. Jeff and I go way back. He was an amazing inspiration to those of us involved in New Student Orientation. I was so impressed and enthusiastic about orientation when I was an incoming freshman that I knew I wanted to partake in that group and help the new kids coming in feel welcomed.
Though the orientation team met with new students in small groups throughout the summer, we all worked for and looked forward to the new student pep rally which was held their first night on campus. This was where we all met in the gym and the orientation team basically went nuts to try and get the college spirit going. This was an amazing evening and I’m not sure in the three years I did orientation that I had a voice at the end. The new students really warmed up to this and it made them feel like this is where they wanted to be.
After experiencing the orientation process as a freshman, first time away from home, in a school where I knew no one, I really wanted to do something special when I returned as a sophomore and an Orientation Leader (OL). While I was at home one summer afternoon, going through old boxes of toys and crap, I came across an old Washington Redskins toy helmet – and it was maroon – the new chosen color of orientation. It's important to know that orientation is planned so far in advance, that I applied as a freshman to be an OL as a sophomore – and the meetings started in the second semester of my freshman year. The Orientation Planning Executive Committee (OPEC) is the group of students, hand picked after a lengthy and multiple interview process by Student Affairs faculty, this included Jeff and Jan Walbert. Jan is currently the Vice President of Student Affairs and the key person who has kept my legacy alive. One of the first orders of business for OPEC is to choose a color theme and a logo for the orientation that year. All the OLs wear a t-shirt of that color and with that logo – and OPEC members wear their own variation of that t-shirt. This is so we stick out amongst the thousands of new students – and so OPEC members stick out even more. This is very key because it was long before we all had cell phones attached to us and when someone has a question you need to get an answer quickly. Trust me, the t-shirt recognition system worked.
My sophomore year – the color was maroon, same as my helmet. So me being the creative, but not so talented artist type, I peeled the Redskins stickers off of the helmet, grabbed some paint and painted the orientation logo on the sides of the helmet.
On the night of the pep rally – I presented it to Jan as a token of appreciation for the time and dedication she gives to orientation. I have never met two more energetic people than Jan and Jeff when it came to making the new students a community at The Beav.
Jan was very gracious at the gesture. She grabbed the helmet, gave me a big hug, and with the roaring applause that started from the OLs, she ran laps around the gym with the helmet on. The OLs then followed and grabbed new students along the way.
It became an amazing tunnel of energy – people were slapping Jan’s helmet as she passed – and we all took turns making our lap in the helmet. It became a symbol of what amazing things were to come in the new year. A symbol of new friendships to be made and milestones to be marked. It became the symbol of orientation.
Ah yes, one year does not a legacy make. Tis true my friends. So the next year – when the color was orange, I purchased a toy helmet – that had to be spray painted orange – because I don’t live in Cleveland – and yet again pushed my not so artistic painter in me to paint the logo of that year on the helmet.
And by my senior year – I was now a PROUD member of OPEC, and with the color being green – I found another toy green helmet at a yard sale and passed on the symbol for one last time.
Back to my recent visit a couple weeks ago. Jan was not around, but as I was chatting with Jeff, he mentioned that I am still there every orientation, and he took me into Jan’s office. I was amazed and touched and overwhelmed with a feeling of accomplishment when I looked up on Jan’s shelf and saw my three helmets, along with a painted safari hat, hockey mask, more football helmets, and various other forms of hats with logos and signatures. After I left, the legacy of the helmet was passed on by other OLs, other students. People I have never met and probably never will. People who never knew how that first lap with the first helmet felt. The energy and pride it brought to the orientation staff that night. They will never know how that felt, yet they felt so strongly about what the symbol meant to orientation and to Jan, that they left a piece of themselves on Jan’s shelf forever.
Jeff also mentioned that Jan gives a former student by the name of Butz a little shout out during orientation, so they all knew the reason why they want to wear that colored shirt. The reason why they want to lose their voices. They knew the true importance of being the first name known to a student who otherwise felt overwhelmed and scared by the new college experience. And whether or not your degree has Beaver or Arcadia written on it in the end doesn’t matter. It’s about finding yourself, finding something to believe in and devote your power and energy to. Its about hope and pride.
So my legacy lives on. And when I think of what I created – I smile and I believe in myself all over again.
We all touch people in many ways, and we should have small reminders of the difference we make. I made a difference as an OL – and I carry that hope and seeing things with new eyes with me everyday!!
Long live the helmet!!

A Yankees fan gleams!!!!

It’s the beginning of another year of baseball - another year of Yankees – another year of amazing games!!! And yes, another year of having to put up with the back and forth with my dear friend Jay of whether or not it will be the Red Sox or the Yanks going all the way!! We always make an obscene bet – and we always pay up at the end of the season, but no amount of money can ever hurt as much as the humiliation I have to endure IF the Sox actually beat the Yanks! Play on Jay!!!

I am home from work today – actually not by choice – I was totally content with watching the live box score on ESPN.com from my desk – but instead I am home, on the couch, watching the game on my 42 inch plasma HD with a pizza and fries on the way. Not so bad for opening day.

The excitement is crazy – I know Jeter will do something amazing every game – I know there is always a chance of the Yanks pushing your nerves and getting behind on the scoreboard – but finding a way to bring you out of your depression with an amazing come from behind win. The names – the players - the pulling out of the jerseys that have been dormant for winter. I’m feeling the October spirit in April. I am a Yankees fan!!

I have to say that there is a small lack of excitement in my Yankee veins to see that Pavano is starting the opening day. The first pitch of the season is of course a ball; he will struggle with finding the strike zone. But he managed to get through the first inning without a run scoring – with no help for A-Rod a usual. Did he look like the ass that he is or what when he dropped the pop up? Third base to me will always be known as Error city as long as he is still there!! I am sick of hearing this is A-Rod’s year – he will be MVP. That is the worst sports observation made! Almost as bad as anyone saying Rex Grossman had a chance to win the Super Bowl! He is an annoying crybaby that will in the end let us all down somehow.

Thumbs up to Bobby Abreu – his first at bat is a base hit!! I have to comment on Bobby as I live in Philly and nobody was happy when he was traded – especially when he was traded and starting hitting the crap out of the ball. He is a good strong player and the Phillies did not know how to utilize his talents in the line-up.

Giambi – who is not my favorite player, but hits the ball and since his steroid outing has kept his mouth shut, batted in the first two runs of the game while still in the first inning -looks to be a game!!!

Maybe I spoke too soon – the 5th inning is turning into the nerve racking game that I am used too. Tampa Bay just scored 4 runs and the Yanks are down 5-3. Get Pavano out of the damn game!
I should know from experience to not watch the middle innings and to come back for the win in the end – I will never learn – I am a Yankees fan!

Now this is Yankee baseball – Bottom of the 6th bases loaded, Yanks are down 5-3, 1 out, and Jeter is up – this can only lead to a good things – sure enough – true to baseball in NY, Jeter hits a single scoring two runs and tying the game!! Kind of makes you forget the error he had earlier… why even mention it really. Strike that from the record.

Speaking of errors, if we played any other team and had 3 errors it may have been a nasty opening day, but since it was the Devil Rays, it was in the bag.

Two runs in the 6th, one run in the 7th, and three runs in the 8th – and the Yankees come out on top 9-5!!! I can breathe again!! First game down – HOPEFULLY all the defensive jitters are out and the fielding will get better. But the bats are swinging and the runs are scoring – I love my Yankees!

What sweetens the victory is a loss by the Red Sox!! Did you seriously think I wouldn’t mention it? I love this game!

Now we start the countdown of games – not only until we start playoffs – and we will, but also until we lose A-Rod – he will not be back and I am not sad!!! Even when he does well, and takes an undeserved bow I can’t get excited. His good plays are few and far between. He will drop the pop ups – he will not go after the line drives – he will strikeout and blame it on Jeter taking his spotlight and not being able to concentrate. My friend, NY is Jeter land – you will never earn the respect that he has. You will never play as hard as he does and you will never be at home in NY. Thanks for nothing…
We now have 161 (not including playoffs) games to go Until A-Rod exits the pinstripes!

Why We Run...

Distance running is something you have to do to understand why people do it. In a family with four kids, my sister Audrey and I run. And though our brother Paul and sister Erin do not, they are very instrumental in our drive with their support and love. Unfortunately Audrey and I do not have the knees that will allow us to run for as long as we would like in our lives. So with every step we feel the pain and are reminded of the time ticking away on our race days.
I started running at a young age - I was a natural instantly. And I loved to do it - I felt complete and fresh every time I did.
In school, when I was on the track and cross-country teams, I was obviously out to win the race. I think my push to do so, along with other sports I was playing, and the job I held, wore my little body down to a point where I was so exhausted I had to stop running all together. I had to stop sports in general for a while and focus on getting back to a healthy point in my life. What I realized later in life is that if I would have been smarter about it, I would have been a great runner for many years. I can’t go back and change my life process, so I have to learn from where I came from and make a better future for myself. I think I have done this very well.
As it stand I am a runner - I will always be - but I am a runner because I need it. I am a runner because I want it. When I race now, I race for the thrill and the accomplishment. I will always finish a race I start - I will not come in last - and I will run the whole thing. Running races is also a good way to support great causes. I run for Cancer, Clean Air, Autism, Stroke victims, just to name a few.
Running creates a great bonding experience. Having a race as a goal and training to get to that goal draws people closer. So when Audrey also showed interest in running at a young age, I was excited to think of the opportunities we would have as running buddies to race together.
You should know that Erin and Audrey did not grow up with Paul and myself. We are half siblings and in a too long to explain way, grew up in three different houses. As adults we do try to talk and visit more than when we were younger, but its very hard in this busy world today. So when Audrey was sent to Iraq in 2004, in my mind I knew when she got back I wouldn't waste any more time being out of touch because I was "too busy." We made a promise to each other via our many emails while she was over there, that when she got back, we would start running races together. What made this promise even more bittersweet was the fact that after already having both of my knees scoped I had to have a major kneecap realignment surgery in October of 2004. I was not able to walk for a month, on crutches for three months, and went through intense physical therapy for 9 months. So when we made this promise, I knew I was going under the knife and I also knew there was a chance that there would be no more racing. It was heartbreaking for me to have to think about the one thing I truly loved to do - the one thing that makes me feel relaxed and true to myself, could be gone. But it was something that needed to be corrected because I found myself sitting at the bottom of the two sets of stairs in my house crying, because I could not put enough weight on my leg to climb them. Something had to be done - Living in that kind of pain is unnecessary.
With my sister back from war and my surgery successfully completed, we set our first race - The Prefontaine Memorial 10K in Coos bay Oregon on September 16th 2006!! I love Steve Prefontaine - He is and will always be, an inspiration to all runners! I felt it would only be fit to run his race in his town and finish on his high school track.
I trained, carefully, she trained, joyfully, and we made it to Coos Bay and ran our first race together. The finish of the race was 3/4 around Prefontaine's HS track. To enter that fence and to step on that track was one of the mostly incredible feelings I have ever had as a runner. One of the best runners to ever strap on the shoes use to break records here. He was everywhere that day!! What made it even more emotional was when Audrey, who had already finished, waited for me on the far straight away of the track and ran the tail end of the race with me - she saw me to the finish!!! She has an amazing soul.
After a fantastic weekend in Oregon we knew we had to race together many more times.
The next challenge was the Virginia Beach Shamrock Half Marathon March 18, 2007!!
My family is Irish, Audrey was born on St. Patrick's Day, and the race was sponsored by Yuengling Brewery, which is located in Pottsville, PA - which also happens to be the city all four of us were born. This race was customized for us!!
But could my knees hold up for a half marathon?! In my mind I could run for days - As I trained, I realized I could not.
It was a hard few months of training - which ended with Cortisone shots in both knees to get me through the race.
I was determined - as a runner to go through with my goal - to take the next step in my life. I needed this in more ways than anyone will understand or than I can even write about. To know I would have my sister next to me - was a huge comfort and an even bigger inspiration. The reasons to not do this were not enough in my book to keep me from this experience that would live on in my heart forever.
The morning of the race - it was mid 20's and windy at 7:00 in the morning. I hardly slept the night before and I woke up wanting to spew all over the place. I was nervous, excited, scared, motivated, anxious, tired, and tense all at the same time. The first 6 miles we ran together and they flew by. Then Audrey needed to spread her legs a little bit - I was on my own, with my music, to ponder the whole act of running. To really think about what it took for me to get to this point and to enjoy every step and every moment of what I was doing, because I knew this is as far as I go in one race. There will be no more half marathons, no more 10 milers, and never a marathon. When you lose a dream, you really learn to cherish the piece of the dream you can hold on to. This was one huge piece. So after mile 9 when I thought I really needed to stop moving - I kept going. At mile 10 when they were playing the theme from Rudy on the loudspeaker - I threw a beer on myself just so I could say I did. At mile 11 I knew I did it!! I made it through this race and I was still moving!! I don't even remember mile 12 because all I could see was 13 coming up!!! Mile 13 my legs just took me through the finish at 13.1!!! I DID IT I DID IT I DID IT!!! I knew I could and I knew I would, but after I did, I knew I could say with much pride I did it!!
Standing right across the line waiting for me was Audrey. I ran into her arms and she did not let me go for a good long time. We gathered our medals and our foil blankets and our hats and found Erin, she knew this was not easy for either one of us, but our determination and passion for running makes us do amazing things.
The exhaustion and the pain and the cold were pretty dominating that morning - but I felt nothing. I just ran the longest race ever for me, the day after my baby sister’s birthday, it was a great moment.
Who knows when the next race will be for us or where it will be for that matter. But there will be more and we will be together.
So why do we run? Because we can, because we love it, it’s who we are. And when being a runner is in you - you are overwhelmed by the need to do it. And after you do it - you are overwhelmed by the feeling of accomplishing something that not a lot of people choose to do, nor do they understand those who do choose to do it.
I'm a runner - its what I love!!