It's about the journey....

Nine years ago - when I was 27 I signed up for the 3-day Avon Breast Cancer walk. The walk started in Leominster, Massachusetts and ended in Boston. I decided to walk after I lost my fiance at the time, Jared Tuccolo to brain cancer. I wanted to do something as a way to give back to all of the people, relatives, friends, doctors, nurses and perfect strangers that offered an ear, a caring smile, and top notch treatment at one of the best hospitals in the world - Massachusetts General Hospital. After he died I needed something to pass the time away - replace my sadness with a sense of purpose again. I think many people caring for someone dying have felt the same way. You become so used to dealing with the sickness, pills, schedules, and doctors that once it's over - you don't know what to do with yourself. At least, I didn't. So, I joined the gym and began walking everyday on the treadmill. First - walking 1 mile. Then, 4 miles. A few months after that - 6 miles and I realized how much I loved to walk - and still do. One afternoon at the gym, I saw a sign up sheet for the 3-day walk. My first thought was "60 miles in 3 days? How the hell am I going to do that?". But then, the more I thought about it, I realized - "If people fight everyday, battling cancer or other life-threatening diseases - I can walk 60 little miles". So I signed up and began training and raising money. Most of my donations ($1200.00!) came from people who had also lost someone to cancer. Once the day finally arrived, I began walking. And walking. And walking some more. Sometimes, I walked alone. Sometimes in small groups. Sometimes with one person - and we'd share our stories. I met mothers, daughters, parents, and many widows. It was the people and the stories that made this walk the most important walk I've ever gone on. As mile 60 approached, and the crowds and news crews gathered in the streets along the Charles River, I understood that my purpose in life - was to keep living. The walk allowed me to grieve and heal and ultimately move on. Two years later - I walked into a pub in Manchester NH and met a man named Peter. I married him 2 years later. He and I are talking about walking again - together. He lost his mother a few years ago to the same disease. Life has a funny, strange and unpredictable way of working itself out. Personally, I think it's all about the journey.