My Meet-ups with Cancer and How Community Saves
By Rebecca Wallace, Jan 27, 2015
No, I don’t have it. Nor does anyone in my immediate family
(as I knock on wood) have it. So I consider myself one of the lucky ones. But I
have had more “meet-ups” with cancer in my life in the last few years than I
care to add up. Yes, I’m getting older. I’m in my 40s, and I realize meet-ups with
cancer will occur more and more often as people around me get older. But my
first two meet-ups were with a four-year-old girl and a six-year-old boy. And
those meet-ups alone changed my life forever.
Both
children belonged to our preschool. The girl was my son’s classmate. Her dad is
a real-life rock star who travels with his band, and has friends, literally,
all over the world. I saw our small circle of mutual friends band together in
support of this family, but was also amazed through social media of the power
and magnitude of a community that can pray, together yet from different states,
countries and continents. Three years later, I’m still enamored with this
miracle girl, and the humility of this family who are truly grateful for the
ties that bind their community. And who give back to the community because of
it.
Even closer to me is the little boy,
now, thankfully, in his third year of maintenance and nearly finished with
chemo treatments. My family was actually vacationing with his when they heard
the devastating news no one wants to hear. And though we saw first-hand the
pain and agony this horrific disease can put on a dear little boy, again, I was
amazed by the community. I knew I lived in a great neighborhood, but I had no
idea how great until this happened. My church prayed vigilantly, fellow church members
who were survivors and our pastor offered support to this family they didn’t
even know. I reached out to fellow parents – some which knew the family and
some that did not. And within a day, I raised money for a small freezer to sit
on the family’s porch so they could accept meals without having to accept
visitors during this tough time. The next year, friends channeled this support
into a cause and formed the non-corporate team to raise the most money for the
Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s 2012 Light the Night Walk. Amazing what a silver
lining this community created around a very big cloud.
A couple years later, a man in the
neighborhood – again – the dad of a preschool classmate of my son – lost his
battle with cancer. He was close to my age. My husband’s age. And the age of
all our friends. Though I barely knew him, it was devastating to contemplate
what his wife and children were, and still are, going through. But again, our
community came together. His family’s friends in our neighborhood joined with
friends that came in from all over the country to build a tree house. They
raised the money for materials and built a beautiful tree house and planted a
garden for his little girls. It was the tree house that love built, because it
was his dying wish. All in a matter of days. Because it’s what he wanted. And
because everyone knew it would make the girls smile.
Community is the reason why the meet-ups with
cancer don’t kill us all. Yes, sadly and extremely painfully, cancer takes some
of us with it. But for those of us it leaves behind, well, it's community that
makes us stronger.
About the Author
Rebecca earned a bachelor's degree in English literature from Mercer
University in Macon, Ga. and a master's degree in mass communication
from the University of Georgia. A graduate of the Atlanta Regional
Commission’s Regional Leadership Institute, she is president of the
Board of Directors for the Grant Park Cooperative Preschool and serves
on the Board of Directors of the Center for Working Families. She is
also a member of the Grant Park Farmers Market Advisory Board, Georgia
Organics and the Atlanta Farm-to-School Coalition. Atlanta’s
historic Grant Park is where Rebecca calls home; she and her husband,
two children and two dogs live in a 100-year-old house. The family is
actively involved in their church and neighborhood.
Connect with Rebecca: rebecca@rtwcommunications.org; (404) 310-3179; rtwcommunications.org.