I'm Riding to Honor Robin. Who Else Will Come Along on the Ride?

This is part of a note I wrote to my friend's younger sister, who's a woman of strength and grace who has faced an unspeakable challenge just the way I would hope to. THIS is why I ride the PMC -- to honor the fallen and, I hope, make this experience less common. To share someone in your life who we can take on the ride, please add a comment to our post "We Ride the PMC to Honor Survivors and Angels." To donate to the PMC, please join my PaceLine.


"Jenny,
"I learned just a week ago today that Robin's memorial service was held the day after I sent your mom a note about my plans to ride the Pan-Mass Challenge again to honor Eve, Helga, and countless others who have battled cancer. I was so sad to hear that Robin had lost her battle, and not at all surprised to hear your mom say you are a rock and an angel. I can't imagine the difficulty of watching either of my older brothers battle and suffer, and I also hope that I'll rise to the level of grace, generosity and love you gave if ever I'm faced with the challenge. Larry and Clarence were amazing, as I can easily imagine you were in the face of suffocating anguish. Let's believe that Robin has joined such lively, just, funny women as Eve and Helga, and that they all are comfortable and content as they watch over us.

"On Saturday, I'll mount my bike and join 5000 riders in a trek from Sturbridge and Wellesley out to Provincetown on the tip of Cape Cod. If possible, can you email me a picture of Robin to carry with me?

"I'm riding 192 miles over the two days, and the miles roll more quickly when I carry the names, images, and stories of people who have battled cancer. Any physical discomfort of riding (mostly on my most posterior point!) evaporates by thinking loving thoughts of loved ones lost too early. It's also an inspiration to push so very hard on the last miles through the softly swaying grass of the dunes of Provincetown. As some sort of gesture, it feels appropriate to push myself as hard as possible those last miles and put everything into finishing strong and fast.

"One paragraph I wrote to your mom felt so true, I'll paste it here: I didn't really realize how special a place Robin and your whole family occupy in my image of my childhood until this week. Robin was the elegant, kind, gracious, gorgeous "older sister" who was really nice to me and the other little kids who I recall buzzing a round her at Lake Valhalla. My memories of those times are painted with pictures, warm sunlight, and fond feelings. Robin, Jenny, Jimmy, Robby, you, and Dwight were anchors of that summer experience, as well as fun times in and around your Elston Road house.

I am so sorry for your loss, and so grateful to have shared wonderful parts of life with Robin and you.

Fondly,

John

"Sync"

173 days to the 30th Pan Mass Challenge.

Yesterday, I felt out of "sync" because I was out of my normal, winter Saturday routine of skiing. Body and mind were unbalanced, and I felt disoriented until I recognized "why." Only then could I rebalance and get synced with myself.

If I got knocked out of balance from such a relatively small disturbance, what must it be like to be whacked, thwacked, shoved and pummeled by something big, like a cancer diagnosis, or having a loved one lose the battle with cancer?

It's huge, I know from experience, and my way through relied on contemplation, expression, and relying on others who had strength I lacked at that moment. Then, it took me years to regain my balance. Fortunately, I'm wiser now and faster to turn to my trusted tools.

How do you get back in sync?

Losing my mom, Eve, and then her best friend, Helga, disturbed my balance for years.

From PMC 2008

Jen Kay's death, so offensively early, brought focus to "doing good."

From PMC 2008

Debi Finnerty was an angel on earth, brightening the day of children, their families, her friends and colleagues. The world was brighter every day that she shined her happy smile and loving heart. She battled valiantly, but lost in 2006.

From PMC 2008