What kind of person are you? Are you kind to strangers, find pleasure in helping those in need, considerate of your neighbors, a steward of the earth, and loving to your family? Do you give of yourself even when it isn’t convenient, and do you nurture those you love even though they may not always show appreciation for your tenderness?

 

I know some special people who exemplify all that is good. While not without fault, these wonderful beings are for the most part joyful, warmhearted, and loving. They will bring their special brand of kindness to bear in difficult situations, think before they speak, and graciously give of their time to be there for others.

 

There are those who love to gossip, celebrate when others fail, and don’t mind their tongues. They seem to take our sunshine away, don’t they? These individuals may be quick to find fault in others, lack consideration, laugh when others fall, and maybe value money above all else. They will be nice to your face, but not hesitate to disrespect you behind your back.

 

None of us are perfect. But the problem I have in this moment is the realization that cancer doesn’t care what kind of person you are.

Cancer strikes good people. Cancer moves in without regard to how many karma points you may have built up.

 

Sometimes I feel it is invading the lives of good people more often than the “other” kind, and I have to say I’m angry about this. I’m at a loss for what to say or what to do when a friend loses a spouse, a child, a mother, father, brother, sister or other family member to cancer. Cancer has claimed good people who would give you whatever you need, whenever you need it.

 

Because cancer doesn’t care.

 

It is not that I wish this horrible condition on people I deem as “not good” or that I believe anyone is deserving to be invaded by this sinister disease. Not at all, but I just get so angry when cancer happens to good people. And then I cry for my friends whose lives have been taken and for others who are left to mourn their loved ones.

 

I was captain of a Relay for Life team in Washington State for five years. My teammates and I raised a lot of money for the American Cancer Society. We came together to show cancer that we do care. It was a precious 24 hours that made us feel we were doing something positive, together with the people who donated to the cause.

 

We gave our teams funny, clever names, sometimes with a name to honor a cancer survivor, or someone who didn’t survive, and together we put up tables and tents around the track where we camped for the duration of the relay. Some years during the relay it rained and the wind blew. We kept walking.

My team was named “Nickerson’s Knights” for our colleague, Frank, who had stage 3 colon cancer. He has been cancer free for over five years now. Yay!

In the first lap we celebrated survivors! When darkness came, we lighted the luminaries to honor those who were survivors and for those whose lives were taken by cancer.

 

At least one team member had to be on the track at all times in that 24 hours of Relay for Life. We relayers held hands, walked together or alone, shared stories, laughed and cried for those who died and those who were in the midst of dealing with cancer. We showed we cared the only way we knew how—raising money and walking and running around a track.

 

A few of the relayers from Kamiak High School

 

Not a single person I know has not been somehow touched by cancer. We have all lost someone we have cared about. We loved them and now we miss them. We all know people who are living with it right now. We think about them and we do what we can to let them know we care, because cancer doesn’t care.

 

 

 

I’m going to leave you with two questions:

1. What are we, individually or collectively, capable of doing to rid the world of cancer?

2. What can we do to ease the pain of those whose lives have been touched by cancer?