261 Days (Or The Prevalence Of Cancer)

I wish that life was always happy and, by extension, I would never tear up when writing a blog post.  Unfortunately it has been one of those weeks where sadness crept in, and I have felt helpless to do anything about it.  Being a part of Texas 4000 has made me more aware of the prevalence that cancer has on, not just the macro level, but how my friends, family, and everybody that I meet tells me a story about a friend or a loved one who has battled or is currently battling cancer.

We are currently recruiting for the 2014 ride year, and so I spend a lot of time in my jersey talking to students about the ride and encouraging them to apply.  When I was walking out of a cafe after having coffee with a friend somebody commented "nice shirt!"  After giving him a polite "thank you" and turning to walk away, he began to tell me about his Dad who passed away a while ago from lung cancer and how grateful he is that students are willing to bike for 70 days to raise money for cancer research.  I noticed a pack of nicorette gum next to him on the table, and he told me that he is only just now quitting.

A little over two weeks ago I saw a Facebook status update on a friend's wall telling us (all 759 of her friends) that her mom was recently moved into hospice care.  This broke my heart because I remembered how hopeless I felt when David was in hospice, because it means the end.  It means that there is nothing else you can do to fight.  After reading through her old updates, I learned that her mom was diagnosed with colon cancer two years ago and has been battling it all this time.  It pained me that somebody my age was losing a mother, and I was also distraught to realize that I was blind to her pain until it was almost too late.  I messaged Darienne and told her about Texas 4000, asked if I could dedicate my summer to her Mom, and I received a response yesterday that made me cry.

"I would be absolutely honored if you rode in my Mom's memory (if you didn't see the status, she passed early Monday morning). Her name was Merrell Charlton Nicholas. Keep me updated on your ride and let me know when I can start signal boosting your fundraising in her name. 

Thank you so much, Hilary. Really."

I absolutely dedicate my ride to Merrell Charlton Nicholas.  I dedicate my ride to David Leslie Newman, James' dad, and I dedicate the summer to my grandmothers on both sides.  I dedicate my ride to Deborah Globe, Ken and Nona Maultsby, Lucila Patton, Oliver Claassen, Edith Jacobs, and Frances Allen.  I dedicate the ride to Kim Loftin, Barbara English, Patti Batis, and Mike McJilton.  I dedicate my ride to grandmothers, grandfathers, moms, dads, and children who all passed away after battling cancer.  I hope that we are able to find a cure for cancer tomorrow, because I am heartbroken by how prevalent it is today.