Walking With and For Those Affected by Breast Cancer

I walked on Saturday, October 12th at the Making Strides of Wilmington, DE for Breast Cancer Awareness Month in honor and memory of my mom. It was my first breast cancer walk and I didn’t know what to expect or if it would be worth it. It definitely was. I had just finished working in the early hours of the morning and fell asleep. Earlier that morning, I woke up with extreme heartbreak, remembering the feeling of losing her.

 It’s not as harsh everyday, but I do experience a sense of losing her every time I wake up. I was her baby and I tried to protect her and help her like she was mine. I didn’t have a chance to repay her. I don’t think there’s enough time in this world to repay our parents for what they’ve done for us and the sacrifices they’ve made. 

I woke up late and rushed to the bus stop, only to miss it. I pondered if I should attend. If all I was missing was a walk, did it really matter if I missed it? The way the Saturday buses run, if I waited for the next bus, I probably would’ve missed a majority of the walk. I paid the Lyft fare of $12.81 and went to the event. That and the donation were worth every penny. I saw the 5k runners run past us and people were constantly waving at each other and encouraging others as they passed them. I saw plenty of groups walking and talking in unity. I took note of the various messages on the back of the shirts in the stride against breast cancer. 

Initially, I wanted to join a team, but I was glad that I was alone that day. I just wanted to spend some time alone, not having to work or be in contact with anyone. It was nice to just be in the moment and think about what it would be like if my mom was walking next to me. I looked down at my fitness watch, remembering how late at night she would come in my room and walk in place as much as she could before the clock struck midnight to get her steps in because she was on a fitness team at work. I walked along the bridge with the other walkers, headphones in, listening to No Weapon, a song I dedicated to her on her birthday this year. Next, I listened to a song she led at my church It’s Good to Know Jesus by the Mississippi Mass Choir.

From there, the memories flooded in. The warmth of her hand as we held hands going to different places. How gentle she responded to the world when it treated her terribly. I remembered how assertive she was, and she did it with such class. If she didn’t agree with something, she let you know with an explanation. How she would say, “MO” when I was being too silly or too loud sometimes. She used the same tone when she was angry with me. What her voice sounded like when she spoke in tongues. That Sunday, June 3rd was the last day she spoke in tongues before everything went downhill. I remember watching her drive us to different places, with her hands on the steering wheel looking so cute and in control. We shared a lot of laughs and deep conversations in the car. I remember how independent and adaptable she was in situations, which is why I have a hard time asking for favors or help.

I want to take care of things myself like she did. I’m grateful for that charcoal drawing of my mom I have in my room that my Naomi, one of my friends, drew because I look at that drawing every time I’m upset or I just miss her. I remember her faith in God and her walk with him. It was so admirable. Later on in the day, I watched Ghost Whisperer, one of our favorite shows to watch together. As I write this, I remember the first Thanksgiving we cooked together. It was just me, her, and my dad. It was a fun, small gathering. I remember what it felt like cooking Thanksgiving food last year and how hard it was for me to cook alone. I remember how she would kiss me on the cheek and her hugs. I remember as a child leaning over her while she was sleeping and peeling her eyelids open and just looking at her. She wasn’t even mad.  I love her and miss her so much.

I try to think of what she would say if she could see me now. Would she be proud of me? Maybe she would say something like, “All honor and glory to God. Good job Moey! I’m sorry for not being there with you, but I love you. You graduated college and are working to be a successful online entrepreneur. Keep up the good work! Stick with God and you’ll be okay.” Yeah. That sounds like something she would say. -M