Light the Night

This evening was the South Sound Light the Night walk for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, in Tacoma along the waterfront. Jason and I arrived early to ensure we could get a decent parking spot and opted to walk to Duke's Chowder House for happy hour and to just relax before the events began a few hours later.

As we sat at our booth in the bar, enjoying the food and beverages of choice (cucumber mojito for me and an IPA for Jason) that we ordered. Things slowly began to sink in for me. I was about to do a walk for a cause that I'm actually effected by; a disease that I'm battling. I felt guilty for having my emotional breakdowns and constantly asking, "why me?", simply because there are people battling far more aggressive types of blood cancers or who didn't win the fight. I know it's normal to have these emotions, and I shouldn't feel bad because this type of leukemia is as major to me, as it is to anyone battling a more aggressive type. It's just human nature.

It was a dreary overcast walk from the restaurant to the location of the walk site and I held Jason's hand as we approached. I think a little out of fear, because aside from treatment and just going with the flow of things, this was the first step for me at coming to accept and facing my disease. We walked along one of the dock's that had photos of people that were currently battling or had lost their battle with a type of leukemia or lymphoma. Tears began to run down my cheeks as I gazed at each one. Someone's daughter, son, brother, sister, niece, nephew, husband, wife, best friend, coworker, lover. My heart ached, and I looked from one to the next in silence. The children hit my heart the hardest, they're too young to have to go through this, and may not really comprehend what's happening other than they're very I'll, and Mommy and Daddy are doing everything in their powers to make them all better. Which is where fundraising for this organization is so incredibly important. They help those that are in dire need, that don't have the insurance to allow them the treatment they desperately need (if I didn't have insurance, my monthly treatment would cost approximately $13,000 USD).

With the support of Zoe, Allen, Brenda, her daughter Riley and most importantly my husband Jason; we walked the entire length of Ruston Way. Carrying balloons that lit up the night in support, in memory and in treatment/survival. To have friends, who would take time out of their busy schedules (even if they had better things to do or just didn't want to) and walk along side me in the first downpour of Western Washington's transition from summer to autumn, meant the world to me. To know that $805 were raised by my team of friends and family is something I will always hold very dear to my heart and always remember.