>>Continued
From Kohala News Page<<
Cancer
really threw things off balance for Doreen – all
of a sudden she had something in her life that she
couldn’t approach in her usual way. Her
usual way is to handle things almost single-handedly,
to open another section of her heart and make room
for one more thing, for one more cause. This time,
she realized that it would take all her strength
to fight the cancer. All of us around her, accustomed
to leaning on her, had to adjust and ask her to lean
on us. Her incredible husband and children, after
years of Doreen taking care of them, stepped right
into their new shoes with such grace and strength – more
blessings for Doreen. And Doreen’s extended
family – wow. I feel so awkward and happy at
the same time when I am with them because I am not
blood-related, and come from a smaller family, yet
I always yearned for such a bustling, crazy, laughing
family such as hers. It reminds me of childhood visits
to Taiwan – aunties and uncles, cousins, sisters,
brothers, everyone talking and laughing at the same
time, playful teasing, drinking, eating, the closest
arms grabbing and comforting any crying babies… To
be included on her team was such an honor!
On Saturday night, as we all gathered in Kamehameha
Park for the 10th Annual Relay for Life in Kohala,
I looked around a sea of light blue Team Ka’ililauokekoa’okalani
t-shirts, and realized that Doreen had the largest
team! With her family, her husband’s (Malone)
family, her best friend’s family, and mine,
our team came to about 75 people. Doreen’s
shirt was purple – all the survivors wore
purple shirts. She topped off her outfit with a
black-and-white polka-dotted bandana and a great
big smile. As part of the opening ceremony, the
survivors took the first lap – it was heartwarming
to see them smiling and walking with their arms
around each other. The “track” was
set in a large green field, surrounded by huge,
feathery trees that swayed in the gentle wind.
Little white paper bags marked the boundaries of
the track, with a set of bags spelling out the
word “HOPE” in the middle of the field.
These were luminarias that people could buy in
memory or in support of loved ones. Markus, Emmy,
Hanna, Simon, and I bought a candle each for Mom,
Aunt Barby, Doreen, Debbie, and Jon. With Doreen’s
family candles, we ended up taking up a large part
of the circle. Our team was so big we were given
two batons to walk with (we were called K Ohana
Team I and K Ohana Team II). While those who held
the batons walked, the others strolled around the
track, visited with family under the series of
tents erected for our team, ate our potluck dinner,
danced to the live band, browsed the booths, and
set up camp. The children ran around like crazy
people and played on the playground. Markus and
I held hands and talked while we walked around
the track in the beginning – that was our
date night. Later in the evening, the stadium lights
were dimmed and the Luminaria Ceremony began. The
candles we had purchased to honor our loved ones,
were blessed and lit and we carried them to the
little white bags we had marked with our loved
ones’ names. Call me crazy, but Mom was there.
I carried her spirit to that little white bag,
and her candle stayed lit until I blew it out in
the morning. And it rained – it poured. Only
Mom’s and Jon’s stayed lit. One of
the Uncles and I re-lit our candles whenever they
blew out, but we never had to worry about “Nai-Nai” and
Uncle Jon. After Markus and the kids went to sleep,
and I began to walk in earnest, with the baton
in my hand, those little lit baggies kept me going.
I would circle the track, reading the messages
that different people wrote on their bags.
Through the rain, we kept walking. I purposely didn’t
wear a watch – only wore Mom’s wedding
ring. I didn’t want to keep track of the time
in minutes, I wanted to keep track with memories.
So I don’t remember what time it was that I
walked my first set of 25 laps, and I don’t
remember how long it took me – I was only able
to mark the laps with the little rubber bands that
the nice old man getting wet in the rain gave me.
Every time I passed him, I would hold out my baton,
he would snap on the rubber band, I would smile and
say “thank-you” and be on my way. And
I don’t know what time it was when I was waiting
for a team member to finish her walk so I could walk
again, and it was raining, and I sat next to Doreen
under a watertight tent. She was all snuggled up
in a warm blanket, on a sea of pillows on top of
a cot. We watched her elderly parents walking side
by side, slowly around the track, never faltering,
walking for the love of Doreen. With tired eyes,
she smiled and told me lovely things about her family,
and about her husband and daughters, while her mischievous
son snuck his way onto the cot, like a dog at the
end of the bed. She told me about her treatment,
her upcoming operation to remove her uterus, and
how her hot flashes come at such un-opportune times
like in meetings with the hotel General Manager…and
how she would have the urge to rip off her hat or
scarf, but didn’t want to shock the poor man
with her bald head. And as we speak, she has another
hot flash, and looks so uncomfortable there with
her wooly hat on. I told her to take it off and cool
down, that I think she is beautiful without hair.
So she shyly takes off her hat, and she is just that – beautiful.
I don’t know what time it was, but she was
eventually tucked in by one of her sisters, and went
to sleep. I nervously made my way to the outer tent,
where her husband and the other hardier folks were
staying awake. They are joking and laughing, speaking
so quickly in the local style, so I can only understand
half of what is being said. They are very kind, though,
and offered me a Nos – an energy drink. Woo!
That is when I ran off to do my next set of 25 laps.
It rained on and off throughout the night. We were
constantly either taking off or putting on our little
ponchos. I finally got kind of sick of that, so I
just walked through the occasional showers – it
was refreshing. Somewhere along the way, I was in
the middle of my 3rd set of 25 laps, when I found
myself really slowing down- my hips started creaking….
Sleep deprivation…Malone was a few yards ahead
of me…I had been passing people with my speed
walking all night long, so I thought I could pass
him with no problem. Ha. I never caught up with him.
Then, Doreen woke up – someone told me it was
about 5am, and that the closing ceremony should be
beginning, with awards, and the final lap. Doreen
took the baton and walked a long time with her sister-in-law.
Slowly, but surely, she and her fuzzy white hat made
their way around that track – I lost count
how many times she went around – it looked
like she was having a nice long talk with Malone’s
sister.
Finally, we were all called to the main tent, and
awards were handed out – so many I can’t
remember. Best costume, most money raised, team that
walked the most, individuals who walked the most…I
actually won something! I walked 60 laps, the most
on K Ohana Team II. Woohoo! One lady raised about
$14,000! Including donations I expect in the mail,
I raised about $400. Humble beginnings. I hope to
double that next year.
Finally, we all stumbled out of the main tent,
to do our final lap, and found ourselves greeting
the sunrise. By then, things felt very strange and fuzzy…I
don’t know if it was the good feeling in my
heart, or the lack of sleep, but I left with the
determination to do this every year. When my mom
got sick years ago, I was a selfish teenager. When
she got sick again, I was a selfish adult. I did
next-to-nothing for her. All my good intentions amounted
to little more than a few trips to chemotherapy with
her, a few visits to her house, and in the end, long
letters sent from my home in Hawaii. When my friend
Debbie got sick, I prayed for her, but she lived
down the street from me, and I still did nothing
to help. When my friend Jon got sick, I prayed for
him, I took care of his children or his dog while
my friend Georgie, his wife, flew to Honolulu to
be with him for his treatment, but that only happened
a couple of times, and they live right next door.
When Doreen got sick, I vowed to do more, to make
a difference in her life, to be there to help her
to the doctor, or cook for her, or whatever she needed.
I only ended up taking her to the doctor once, I
never cooked, and I never cleaned. I asked myself,
when am I ever going to grow up and do what I say?
When am I ever going to do more than talk or write?
On Saturday, for the first time in my life, I feel
like I made a real difference in the world. It looks
so stupid in writing when it is on this piece of
paper, but even though that $400 was just a drop
in the bucket when you look at the $25,000 price
tag for one chemotherapy treatment, my presence did
something. All of us gathered on that grass on Saturday
night, we put something out there in the world – a
pulse of love so great – it was felt by others.
I saw it in Doreen’s eyes as she slowly looked
around her and saw the warm hearts all gathered in
one place for the love of her. I saw it through the
filter of my own tears as we lit our Luminaria and
thought about our mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers,
aunts, uncles, friends – it was on each of
our faces as we quietly walked around and around.
It has been days since we walked together. When
I came home, I slept for a whole day, not speaking
except to help the kids with the essentials. I
found myself not able to express myself – it
was as if those 12 hours had taken more than my
physical strength. I could only remember the night
inside of my head, couldn’t talk about it,
almost as if the memories were too precious to
let them escape from my lips. This morning, I realized
that if I didn’t take the time to write this,
to share this, I would be doing what I have done
all my life – I would have all the good intentions
of helping without actually putting those thoughts
into action. I can’t do that anymore. I need
to share this experience with everyone, because
it is important. I know it is annoying for people
to ask for money to help causes. I felt the same
way. I don’t expect my efforts to cure cancer.
But the American Cancer Society does more than
fund cancer research. They help the victims with
the cost of medicines, with the cost of transportation;
with loving counseling for the victims and their
families…these are things that anyone might
need someday. Nobody is expecting a huge donation.
We are all regular people with other needs in our
lives. But a good friend with a newborn baby managed
to send $20. Just the action of finding an envelope
and stamp and putting that together is huge, considering
our E-society. And Simon, my little boy, age 6,
earned $3 helping me with laundry, and put it into
my donation box, instead of his piggy bank. Markus’ family
in Germany sent actual Euros in an envelope – the
bills just fluttered out when I opened the letter.
My big sister couldn’t wire money from Australia,
so she sent it via PayPal. So resourceful, these
people with loving hearts and active intentions.
And my next-door-neighbor? The friend who I didn’t
have the wherewithal to help? His family walked
over a check for $100. My best friend, over the
ocean, whose own Mom died of cancer, sent me a
donation in honor of both of our moms.
As for me, I am sure I will continue to be lazy
when it comes to putting my good intentions into
action. I am sure I will make everyday commitments
and fail in some way. I am sure I will continue to
procrastinate when it comes to doing what I must.
But in one way I have been changed forever. The love
that was shared on Saturday night, by Doreen and
her family, by the cancer survivors, and by their
supporters, that is permanently in my heart. That
love makes me stronger – it strengthens my
resolve. I am going to continue to help. Even if
I don’t have a lot of money to donate, I will
donate my time. I will walk again. Next year, I hope
the team is even bigger. And if any of you are able
to make it, I hope you will walk with me. Do it for
someone you love, do it for someone you don’t
even know. Just don’t forget to do something,
no matter how small.
Article
Posted 3/27/07 - Sue
Treppenhauer
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