Something Heroic

     Is there anything essentially heroic in being a survivor?  As surviving is little more than a basic attempt to do what is instinctive,  I would suggest there is really nothing heroic in just being a survivor.  That said, there can be something demonstrated in facing cancer that is both life defining and as heroic as Hell. 

    Last weekend was the local Breast Cancer walk for awareness.  Damnation, was there ever a lot of pink present.  How exactly did pink become the color for breast cancer awareness?  Then again, how did yellow ribbons become the symbol for soldiers away from home (excepting for Tony Orlando's song?)  The variety of messages on the tshirts was certainly demonstration of the vast reach of the issue, and the scope of its impact.  The messages ran from touching to down right funny.  I am particularly fond of the "Save the Ta Ta's...." version.  I was a supporter all the way back in college when I suggested our fraternity should offer free breast exams as a philanthropy project.  The fact that I had no idea how the disease would impact my life should be obvious. 

     So, last weekend, along with a guesstimate of 8 thousand others, my Daughter-in-law, my Granddaughter, and my wife walked through the Pensacola downtown area to garner awareness and raise money for the various breast cancer society's.  Why not, October was set aside as Breast cancer awareness month.  Hard to miss when even watching NFL games it becomes obvious that the players are all wearing pink shoes, pink armbands, and even some pink mouth guards.  Not exactly bad exposure for what is prominently thought of as a woman's issue  

     We had a "Decorate your bra..." event at the house.  My granddaughter was so excited, it meant she got her first bra.  She was not born when her Grandmother faced the darker more ominous side of the issue of the month. 

    After having cancer invade your life you are always aware.  20 years ago I do not ever remember the subject coming up...... well, there was one neighbor woman, but she survived.  Looking back it is amazing how her ordeal made such little impact on my life.  They lived right across the street, and they socialized with my parents often.  I know she lost both breasts, (and just recently I discovered eventually the cancer took her life).  There had to be radiation and chemo treatments.  I do not remember anything but the eventual swelling of her arms (back then the removal of the lymphatic nodes was much more extensive than today...).  Another example of how non aware a young man can be.

     As I said, the medallion in the picture, and the pink ribbon both say survivor.  They are Jeni's.  Normally, one gets a ribbon for some demonstration of excellence.  Placing in a relay race, or jumping higher than everyone else.......  anything demonstrating "winning".  At one time I suppose a survivor was to be seen that way.  At one time "cancer" was almost the equivalent of a death sentence.  We have come a long way, and the survival rates are much improved.  Still, sometimes............   another mother, daughter, sister, wife or grandmother is taken.  For some family there is no ribbons nor medals.  Only loss.  Unbelievable loss. 

     So, thankfully, the number of medalists is increasing.  I mean that with all my heart.  But they gave Jeni a medal for something that really failed to recognize why I think she deserves a medal.  It is not surviving the cancer that made her special (surviving just means we were genetically lucky). 

     No, what makes her heroic in my book is how she faced her cancer.  Facing ones mortality is always revealing.  In our greatest challenges lies the seed for our greatest victory.  Even if cancer had taken Jeni, she deserved a medal. 

     Not once did I see her indulge in self pity.  No, not once did she ask "Why me?".  Matter of fact, when others offered it for her I heard her respond "Why not me?".  True courage in the face of death.  She demonstrated real humor (and patiently suffered through my own attempts) while enduring endless bouts of nausea and the required medical torture.  Facing the unknown with shoulders squared, and eyes bright and engaged.  I imagine even the vaunted Light Brigade charging forward into the field of fire of enemy cannon faced it with no greater courage than Jeni.  There is a country song that says it best.....  Craig Morgan sang ".... and I thought I was tough..."  I had no idea what that meant.

     So, to the many women who wear medals saying "survivor",  I offer a heartfelt "God bless and congratulations".  Still, I suspect that to the family and loved ones who went through the experience with you, and for your sisters that somehow rolled craps when genes were divied out, the only medals we (your extended support group) think you need are the scars the disease left in our collective hearts.  God, you are awesome.  I/we salute you............................