Sunday, May 10, 2015

Racing for a Cure



I can't get this image out of my head.

A sea of humanity.


A river of pink.

Thousands upon thousands of people, in pink scarves and hats, and tutus, and feather boas, and t-shirts with barely disguised innuendo, and pink tiaras, and pink striped socks, and all for one purpose:



To kill a monster.


If you don't already know someone with breast cancer, you will. One in eight women, in the United States, will develop invasive breast cancer in the course of their lives. Last year nearly 40,000 women  in the United States died from breast cancer.


Those statistics floored me. How many women do you know? I have a wife, and two daughters. I have a mother. I have a mother-in-law who has faced this beast already. I have sisters-in-law, and friends and neighbors.

This is a fight for life, and this monster has to die. 

                                   
 And how do you beat this killer?


I'll tell you what I saw today. You put on the goofiest costume you can find, and you laugh in the face of death. You take back your body.


You celebrate every breath, and you remember the ones who have fallen. And you pick up the standard, and you lock arms, and you march straight into the jaws of Hell if that's what it takes.


Defiance is a characteristic of the human spirit. No one likes to be told what to do. And when cancer says die, you can be damn sure that someone is going to resist.


And, when the monster is breast cancer, the front lines will be clothed in pink scarves and hats, and tutus, and feather boas, and t-shirts with barely disguised innuendo, and pink tiaras, and pink striped socks. 

And they'll be laughing, because they know they are going to win this war. 




 This monster is going to die.