Even though it still feels like yesterday, it has been two years since I lost my dad to lung cancer. A few days after I came home from the funeral and the many weeks spent in Ontario leading up to my father’s death, I read about Jean St-Amand organizing the first annual 5k Run to Beat Lung Cancer.
I immediately signed up to do the run. It seemed like a ray of hope after weeks and weeks of seeing my dad deteriorate. There was a lot of anger inside me, and a very strong desire to squash this monster that had taken my father away from me.
Unfortunately, I had to have surgery and although our family signed up for the run, we couldn’t run it.
Last year my husband and three kids participated in the run. After running all winter on the treadmill, it was hard!
This year I have been running the 5k route since the beginning of April. For me, the training has been as much a part of getting involved as the race itself.
My father was a regular visitor to Nova Scotia. He always saw the beauty in everything around him. Having grown up a sailor on the Mediterranean, in Tuscany, Italy, he loved the ocean and all it has to offer.
The 5k run takes you along Shore Drive to Fish Hatchery Lane, back again to DeWolf Park and past, to the end of the pier (past the Ultramar), and back again to the park. It is a beautiful run – every day is a different experience.
Sometimes the ocean is so flat that the clouds reflected on its surface appear to be floating in the water. Sometimes the fog rolls in and you can’t see the other side of the Basin. Sometimes the waves are so rough they crash against the rocks that line the boardwalk. The jellyfish and starfish are there now too.
The time I spend running in the mornings is my time to reflect, and I take this time especially to think about all that has happened in the past two years.
I think about my family, my friends, my work…but I especially remember my dad.
I remember what a caring and thoughtful man he was. I remember his kisses at bedtime. I remember the fun times we had growing up. I remember his gentleness.
And I also remember the weeks leading up to his death. I remember his body being “eaten” by this awful disease, a disease that doesn’t show any mercy.
I remember how until the very last day he had a smile for everyone who walked through the door.
I think about all the mothers, and grandparents and sons and daughters who die of this disease.
I think and I remember. That is why I’m running the 5k to Beat Lung Cancer.