Keeping the Memories Alive

The usually bare walkways curling around the P.E. center were lined with homemade memorial luminaries, and strewn with pensive, although contented people. People united by human compassion towards something that may or may not have affected them. The Walk for Cancer that took place this past Saturday, the 19th, took me completely by surprise. To say that it was a complete success would not be fitting, as material achievement was not the goal in mind. What did happen was hundreds of people who had not seen each other before, and may not see each other again, connected on unforeseen levels: physical exhaustion, satisfied sense of duty, deeper levels of empathy than I have ever experienced, and of course, music provided by a few different bands, and food provided by the Common Man. The organization that put this walk together is called Keeping You, Me and Memories Alive, and they raise about $13,000 a year. The money then goes to Plymouth citizens for emotional support, or directly to people in this area affected by cancer. The walk began at noon and ended at midnight. The way everything worked was that the walkers got sponsors who would donate money for every mile they walked; but this is not the only way the group gathered money. Raffle tickets were sold, donations were given, corporate sponsors pitched in, and local businesses paid for advertising. I felt like a faker. I was not there to walk. I was there to see the bands and support those who needed it. When cancer claimed my grandpa, I was only seven, and couldn’t comprehend it. I had not experienced the pain that these people had. But that just didn’t matter to these people; they loved me anyway, and temporarily reconnected some of the bonds of my affection that had been broken in the past. They treated me like I was just as important as anyone else, and everyone had that same overwhelming look of compassion in their eyes. If it weren’t for that simple look, those few time-stopping moments out of the spectrum of five hours, I almost would not have felt right being there. But it was somehow home.