Most of you already know that I'm not one you'd call a "runner". I'll do it every now and then to keep fit, I've done a few races, and I've even done a marathon (granted, it was in Hawaii.... kiiiiiiind of a big motivator), but I'm not someone who runs because I love it. I need the proper motivation to get my feet hitting the pavement, and that motivation is usually the promise of a donut. Every now and then though I'll be spurred to action by something NON-food related, and that motivation usually takes the shape of advocating for the fight against Pancreatic Cancer.
Although
my mom's parents (Gramps and G-Unit) lived in Erie, we saw them ALL the time growing up.
They were in at least once a month, we would spend the whole summer in
Erie, they would baby-sit us when my parents went out of town, and we usually spent
holidays with them. They were a huge part of my life growing up. I always remember how much my mom cleaned
when they were coming, and how when I got home from school on those days, I
would drop my book-bag in the doorway and run up to Gramps, who was standing
there with his arms open, saying "Court, you son of a gun!" When I got older, no matter what I looked like, or how much I weighed, he
always greeted me with "You look good, honey", and it always made me
feel so good about myself. That was just the type of guy he was.
When I was little, my vision of Gramps was someone who would always peel
and slice apples perfectly for me, would take us on special trips to Toys R Us,
built us a tree-house and BJ a ninja turtle clubhouse in his backyard, always
worked with his hands, made mashed potatoes that would melt in your mouth, and
gave us swigs of his beer to see our "eyes roll". When he did
that, we'd always run to the mirror to see our eyes, cuz we thought they were
really rolling. He would tell us stories about the Popcorn Dragon and
would sing songs about “swimmin’ with barenaked women”.
As
I got older, I began to appreciate Gramps more as a human being and role model.
I began to recognize that he was always honest with people, never said
more than he needed to say, didn't get himself involved with gossip or drama,
garnered respect from everyone he met, and seemed to be hard as nails. I
began to pay more attention to his stories from WWII, when he was in submarines
for 2 months at a time off of Cuba, and nothing ever seemed to get him down.
He was a strong and tough person, but he was the kindest one too. I
was sooooo proud of him, and he meant the world to me.
My
dad and Gramps came to visit DC in January 2007 during my first year of teaching.
They came to my classroom for the day, and the kids absolutely adored
him. I remember little Larry refused to go anywhere without holding
Gramps's hand; it's funny how kids can sense a kind soul automatically. One
of the first things I said to Gramps was, "Holy cow, Gramps! You're
losing too much weight! We need to get a good meal in you!"
He'd joke that he wasn't dieting or anything, just hadn't really been too
hungry lately. I was a little worried that he wasn't eating enough, but
when he ate his steak at Ruth's Chris (I mean, how can you NOT finish one of their steaks???), I didn't think too much more of it.
Plus, the next day he had a huge breakfast, so things didn't seem too
alarming. Dad, Gramps, and I had a great couple of days sightseeing, and
he even got to see the WWII memorial, my favorite. That Christmas, I had
taken a picture of the Pennsylvania pillar and got an engraved frame for it
that said "I love you Gramps". A few weeks later, I was driving to grad class when I got a call from my
mom. She said not to be worried, but that they found tumors on Gramps'
pancreas and liver, and he was going in for more tests. I swear to God,
my stomach dropped that moment, and I automatically imagined the worst. I
remember being so angry that she hadn't told me anything about it, despite
knowing for two weeks already. I asked her if Tiff, my cousin, knew, and she said
yes. After I hung up with my mom, I called Tiff and she just started
crying. From that moment on, we became each other's source of strength. We'd call each other crying, would keep one
another updated on news, and would distract one another when we needed it.
No one said anything about cancer, but we both knew that's what
was happening. I immediately researched pancreatic cancer and was
sickened by the low survival rate and lack of research. After 86 years of
healthy living (he had put a new floor in their living room just 6 months
earlier!), a few cancer cells were going to take him away from us. It
just didn't, and still doesn't, seem fair.
The
next few months were heart wrenchingly difficult. I tried to go into Erie
at least once a month, and every week to every other week in the summer.
I knew then why I had been picked to be in DC for TFA; I was able to see
Gramps more. Gramps started rapidly losing weight and was in a lot more
pain. The stress and emotions took its toll on everyone, and there was
just an air of sadness every time I went to Erie. Mother's Day weekend, I
almost started crying when I saw Gramps because of how much weight he had lost.
It was like he was a completely different person; just a shell of the
strong man with a little bit of a belly that I looked up to so much.
Every time I saw him after that, he had lost even more weight, and his
features seemed almost sunken. It was absolutely devastating to see the
toughest person I knew so weak and in so much pain, and there was nothing I
could do to stop it.
I
tried my best to cheer him up over those months. Every Tuesday was
"Gramps Tuesday", where my first graders signed get-well cards for
him. I also decided to tell him everything he meant to me in a Father's
Day card that year. I told him how the biggest compliment anyone could
ever give me was that I reminded them of him.
2
weeks before he died, Gramps had to go into the hospital to stay overnight.
He was really failing fast and needed to be hospitalized. He kept
trying to hold out longer, because he said that he didn't want to die
"because I'll miss my family so much". That broke my heart to
hear, mainly because he didn't realize that he was OUR source of strength. What
were we going to do after he was gone? It didn't even seem like a
possibility; Gramps couldn't die... he was too strong. You can't kill
strength.
Tiff and I went to visit him one day,
and he was sleeping. We just sat there waiting for him to wake up when he
started talking in his sleep, yelling at my Grandma to put “down the sandwich”
(haha) and then he laughed. I'll never forget that moment because, for
the first time in forever, he looked so peaceful and not in pain. He woke up just as a new
doctor came in (his regular doctor didn't have rounds that day). He
checked in on Gramps, gave us the update, and then dropped a bomb that neither
Tiff nor I expected. He asked Gramps if he wanted to know how much longer
he had. Now, we knew that Gramps was going to die, but no one had ever
said it aloud, especially not to him. He said that he didn't want to
know, and Tiff and I agreed. The Dr. asked if he could talk to Tiff and I
outside. With the door still open he starts the conversation with
"Okay, so it looks like he has only about 6 weeks to 2 months left".
Tiff and I were just numb with shock, because A) we didn't want to know
how much longer he had and B) 6 weeks-2 months? That wasn't nearly
enough time; I thought he had at least 6 more months. The dr. then said,
"He keeps asking me for one more football season (for Jordan), but I can't
give him that. That will not happen." It took everything Tiff
and I had to not break down in front of Gramps when we said goodbye to him.
I said "Bye Gramps! See you soon! Love you!"
That was the last time I saw him. Tiff gripped my hand until we got
to her car, and we just absolutely broke down. That night, at church, I
left during the sermon and just cried on the steps outside. I was so
angry and sad, that I didn't even want to face God at that moment.
Two weeks later, while I was setting up my Wii to play Guitar Hero (don't judge), my mom called to say that Gramps had died. After a
hard battle during which he never lost his spirit or that patience that made
him so strong, Gramps passed away on August 9, 2007 at 86 years old. Other than
the cancer, he was very healthy.
When
a central figure in your life is suddenly not there anymore, you ask yourself a
lot of “Why?” questions: “Why did this happen?”, “Why Gramps?”, “Why is there
no cure?” Eventually, as time passes and the sadness isn’t as strong, you start
to ask more
“How?”
questions: “How can I prevent pancreatic cancer?”, “How can I connect with
people who have gone through what my family has gone through?”, “How can I make
a difference so that no one else has to feel as sad as I did?” When trying to
decide what my “new” New Year’s resolution should be, I focused on that last
question, “How can I make a difference so that no one else has to feel as sad
as I did?” After doing some research online, I became involved with the
Pancreatic Cancer Action Network.
The
Pancreatic Cancer Action Network is a non-profit organization working to
advance research, support patients and create hope for those affected by
pancreatic cancer. The organization funds research grants, provides information
and resources to patients and their families at no cost, pushes for increased
federal research funding and educates the public about this disease. Pancreatic
cancer is the 4th leading cause of cancer deaths in the United States, yet it
receives less funding per patient than other leading cancer killers.
In June 2009, I ran the Kona Marathon with the PanCan team, and tomorrow, June 14th, I will run the Purplestride 5K race with friends in DC. Yep, I downgraded my racing goals about 23 miles! I'm running again for PanCan because too many people have lost the "Gramps" in their lives to this horrific disease. I'll run with Gramps in my heart and a spring in my step and maybe, just maybe, we can raise enough awareness about Pancreatic Cancer to end it. Then no one will have to say goodbye to stories about the Popcorn Dragon...
For more information on Pancreatic Cancer and the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network, visit PanCan's website: www.pancan.org
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| Dad and Gramps on their DC trip in January 2007 |
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