Escape To Avon - August
Every year since 2004, the year Robert's wife, Lisa, died of breast cancer, I have participated in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, first in Chicago, after that in Boston to combine the walk with a visit with Gretchen. Lisa's illness had reached the terminal stage, and I felt helpless. There was nothing to do. Lisa and I had never been close, so but I NEEDED to do something, and I saw an ad in Oprah Magazine for the Avon Walk and decided to get involved. Training for the the walk was easy as I was already an avid walker, but I had never raised money for any cause by myself. I had always been part of some team or organization, and the idea of sending out emails and snail mails asking for money was daunting. But I plunged in head first, and I was astonished at how generous people are. Checks began pouring in, and I far exceeded my fundraising goal. Last year, I had knee surgery and could not do the walk, but I still raised more money than I expected. This year, I registered for for the Charlotte walk in October, because the Boston walk conficted with Clint's 50th anniversary of his graduation from Tulane Medical. I won't be walking this year, again because of my knee, but I joined the crew and with a partner, I'll be driving a van along the route to pick up walkers who can't for whatever reason, oomplete the walk. I'm excited and thinking that my background in nursing will come in handy. For the past 2-1/2 days, when I haven't been having my knee injected or have been meeting with my therapist (psycho, not physical) I've been getting my mailings ready. In addition to the victims of this killer and their family and loved ones, I dedicated this Avon walk to Clint's memory. From Tuesday morning until today, I have cried barrels of tears, ranted and raved and thought my heart was going burst and kissed the top of Clint's urn then cussed him out for being dead. The preparations for Avon helped some, but I still had moments of fury and self-pity and incredible loneliness. The tears came out of nowhere and I don't mean a little tearing up, I mean floods of tears. Kristy came by after work to knit with me, and she was a comfort to m, she always is, but I cried while she was here and way after she was gone. Today, though, I have stayed busy with Avon stuff and knitting and doing exercises for my sore back I got when I moved furniture by myself on Monday just so I could have the instant gratification of seeing how good my new rug would look. (It is perfect). I can't get to sleep, even though I took my meds - all of them, at least I'm not crying. I have gotten outside of myself for this day, and I am grateful for that. Could it be the pain pills? I don't care what it is. I'm just grateful for this day.