I'm Running for Dawn

When you’re from a small town and high school graduation is on the horizon, all you can think about is getting out and going away; that escape can’t come soon enough.  At least that’s how it was for me.  I was going far away, Missouri to start and who knows where else as I left for basic training on my 18th birthday that summer. I returned to the area for a short time during college but never really came back home.  What I gained in freedom and world travels ultimately cost me the tightness of the bonds with the family and friends that I no longer saw frequently.

Dawn and I went to school together in junior high and high school; we were both in band and DECA. We were close for a time but not as much afterwards due to my absence and the different paths our lives took.  I remember coming through her checkout stand at Hasting’s at some point and saying hello, and we tried to catch up in the few short minutes we had; I have no idea how long ago that was, and it was the last time I saw her.  More recently through Facebook we became reacquainted in the general terms we are with most of the people on our friend list, little bits here and there but not really revealing what’s going on in our lives. That is, until she got sick.

The posts started out last summer about how she wasn’t feeling well, and there was even discussion of blood transfusions. I remember being concerned for her without knowing what was going on. Then the announcement came: leukemia. I was devastated for her, what a scary word let alone a diagnosis. I had no experience or context for it and felt helpless except to comfort her through the hollow form of the computer. During one of her hospital stays she posted the phone number to her hospital room, a quiet request for contact. I remember seeing that and something inside me told me to pick up the phone and call. I’m not sure how long we talked, but it was a better life summary than that day at the checkout stand. The time and distance slipped away as we chatted; the good news was that they had received a list of possible donor matches and she would be home for the Thanksgiving holiday.  She also told me she would be coming to Seattle in the spring, and I told her I have an extra room and we could work out details later for visitors and if she needed help. We talked about her family, her three children; I couldn’t believe their ages and laughed that I was going to have to finally admit that we weren’t as young as we once were.  I wished her well and promised we would keep in better touch.

I never dreamed that that phone call would be my last chance to talk to her; I certainly wasn’t thinking it when I called that day.  I just knew she needed a friend.

Despite initial positive responses to her treatments, Dawn got sick shortly after Thanksgiving and then slipped into a coma.  Her husband Doug posted frequently about her progress and what the doctors were saying.  It seemed that she was coming around and one night he updated that she would be moved to a nursing home for rehabilitation. Then the next morning he posted that she was gone; it was a few days before Christmas. I fell out of my chair to read those words, I couldn’t believe it. Hadn’t she been getting better? What about her children?

I got a call that afternoon from a mutual friend who had been closer to Dawn; she wanted me to know what a difference I made that day by calling.  I was really humbled to hear that, as I had no idea that it had meant so much to her.  So the next time something inside you whispers to do something, don’t wait. Act now. You never know what an impact you might have; you just might make somebody’s day.  You might  not get another chance.

I had heard of Team in Training (TNT) but had opted for a different route to get me to my first marathon in January.  I stood alone in my corral in Phoenix surrounded by a sea of purple and shouts of "Go TEAM!" and all of a sudden the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society held a new meaning for me.  It's an organization with a mission: to fight back against cancer and help care for those it hurts.  I knew then I would run another marathon, and I knew it would be for a bigger cause than just for me.

Dawn’s oldest son’s initials are TNT; that sealed the deal. This is the group for me, and this is where I belong. This marathon is for Dawn.