Writer’s Workshop: The Sun Will Rise

5.) A quote you saw on Pinterest that inspired you.

“Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.”

I might be one of the ten people who have never read or seen Les Miserables, but when I saw the quote pictured above on Pinterest it immediately made me think of my Mom.  After losing a second husband to cancer I remember talking to her once about how if it had happened to me I would never get out of bed, or marry again, or do anything again EVER.

She looked at me thoughtfully and said something like, “You know, it’s easy for us to say what we think we would do or what we imagine it would be like if tragedy were to strike us, but we really don’t know. You might think you would just curl up in bed for weeks on end, but your bed gets uncomfortable (as un-poetic as that sounds). You’ll want to get up and stretch your legs, the sun keeps coming up, the world keeps turning and as much as you might wish otherwise, you still need to exist in it.”

I remember looking around after my step-dad Bob died thinking, “Wow…so you people are still walking around like lives were not just destroyed? Just another day.” It’s surreal when you’re caught in that kind of grief, but you do continue walking through it. The sun does rise. I wouldn’t be doing my Dads any favors by choosing to wallow in darkness forever.

When one of my best friends Teresa received news that her fiance Luke had been diagnosed with cancer I watched her fight for him. It was a familiar sight, although I’ll admit I felt lost not knowing what I could do for them. People often assume I’d be a great shoulder to lean on when cancer strikes, but having lost two Dads, I’m a terrible example. We’re all helpless. Completely at the mercy of that disease and the treatments available for it. I’m so thankful we have amazing doctors and researchers and scientists working to eradicate cancer. Without them my dear friend’s husband most certainly would not be here today. He’s currently five years cancer free and they’re building a beautiful family.

Last week I shared information on what the Light the Night Walk is all about, an event that has partnered with Burlington  as the #1 Light The Night National Partner since 2003, raising more than $16 million to help fund cancer treatments and lifesaving research!

I’ll happily be walking along side Teresa this September at our local Light The Night Walk. We will continue to put one foot in front of the other to raise money and advocate for lifesaving treatments and cancer research. Wouldn’t it be great if  cancer would stop causing some of those darkest nights?

I hope you’ll join me and consider registering for a Light The Night event at a city near you!

Read from more bloggers sharing inspiring stories of impact from Light the Night.

This is a sponsored post written by me on behalf of Leukemia & Lymphoma Society’s Light The Night Walk. The opinions and text are all mine. Compensation earned from this post series will be donated to the LLS Light The Night Walk in honor of Luke Russell (in remission for five years!)

missing you

Now it’s your turn!

Mama's Losin' It

Choose a prompt, post it on your blog, and come back to add your name to the link list below. Be sure to sign up with the actual post URL and not just your basic blog URL (click on the title of your post for that URL). For good comment karma try to comment on the three blogs above your name!!

The Prompts:

1.) Your morning drive. (inspired by OKRoserock)
2.) 9 pictures. 9 words. (inspired by Bits of Bee)
3.) A time somebody got stuck. (inspired by Toulouse Confessions)
4.) The first time you ever heard your parent cuss. (inspired by Crossroads of the Heart)
5.) A quote you saw on Pinterest that inspired you.



Comments

  1. says

    Wonderful post! I’ve had the same feelings as you when people close to me have been grieving. When my dad died, I was only 8 months old, but my sister was 16. She told me (after I was grown) that immediately after his death, she couldn’t imagine ever smiling or laughing again.
    Your mother sounds like a strong person. She’s right: we never know what we can bear until we’re faced with it.
    Thanks for hosting!

  2. says

    My goodness. What beautiful advice form your Mom…

    “You might think you would just curl up in bed for weeks on end, but your bed gets uncomfortable (as un-poetic as that sounds). You’ll want to get up and stretch your legs, the sun keeps coming up, the world keeps turning and as much as you might wish otherwise, you still need to exist in it.”

    Prayers for your friend, thank you for links to these events! xoxo

  3. says

    Wow what a great story. You are a true friend to join Teresa and Luke as they walk to support this cause. And your mom sounds like a great lady.

  4. says

    Losing two husbands to cancer, how tempting it would be to close yourself off and stop loving in order to protect your own heart. How wise your mom is to recognize all that kind of “protection” would have cost her and to choose otherwise.

  5. says

    First of all, I am one of the 10 who has never seen nor read Les Mis.

    Your mother is one of the coolest people ever.

    Congratulations to your friend on 5 years in remission! Cancer is such a bitch. The only thing fair in its unfairness is that no one is safe from it.

  6. says

    Your mom sounds very strong. Cancer is unbelievably cruel.
    I got my paperwork in the mail for our Light the Night walk today!

  7. says

    I too have lost several family members to cancer. I am walking with some people from work in the Jimmy Fund walk in Boston in September. Let’s kick cancer’s butt! PS: I agree with the others that have commented: your mother is so strong. What great advice.

  8. says

    I have 100% felt the same way. The confusion of how the world keeps going. This feeling that somehow I must not have cared enough if I move on, if I keep living. It seems so wrong that the way to cope with death is to live.

  9. says

    While I know that your mama is right, I can’t imagine wanting to exist after burying my husband. My daddy died in December, and I am still not wanting to exist out there around people. Maybe I need to, but I don’t want to. I can’t help but think that it will be even harder when my husband goes (if I don’t beat him to the punch, that is!)

    Thank you for sharing such a heart-tugging post. I am sorry for the loss of your two daddies.

  10. says

    I agree. I hear that “c” word and completely lose it. I’m not the friend you want to go to if you know someone that’s been diagnosed. My loss is too profound to have any positive or hopeful feelings. I wish that wasn’t the case, but it is. And the words of your mom? Made me cry. Because it is true. You don’t want to go on, but you do it. You bear it because you have no other choice.

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