I RFL

 4 years ago I attended my first Relay For Life, and sat upon the school bleachers at 3 in the morning to fathom with wonder at the people still walking the track, still refusing to sleep, still fighting to find a cure. I remember being so surprised to see that the Hope made of Luminaria in the opposing bleachers had so suddenly turned to Cure. The entire experience was overhwhelming, and I felt that with this many people all determined under the same cause, anything could be done.

2 weeks ago, I was the Luminzria Chair for that same Relay For Life. After working throughout the entire day to make Luminaria, to read and write the messages written to loved ones on the Luminaria, to place the Luminaria around the track and not only be amazed at the simple beauty each held, but also so saddened at the fact of how many there were… After working through all of it, I stood up in front of the massive crowd of spectators, and spoke as the lights went dim.

I stood almost exactly where I had 4 years before, and looked out at the hundreds of candles lighting up the night. Each candle meant another face, another name, another million or so memories, and my breath caught for a moment. Again, I was filled with this immense emotion of hundreds of people all filled with the same positivity to destroy this plague called cancer – I felt, as I looked around at every glowing face with their eyes that shined as they reflected hundreds of candles, and realized just how real our goal is. Just how capable we are, each and all as shining lights of humanity, to find a cure.

I was wiping tears from my eyes by the end of my speech, and throughout our guest speaker’s speech, and often throughout the rest of the ceremony. Yet, by the end of the ceremony, after shuddered hugs and broken sobs, candlelit memories and fixing dimmed Luminaria, I was smiling. I sat with my friends arm-in-arm and asked “So who’s going to find the cure?”

My entire experience, after realizing the power we have in our Hope, has brought me to terms with this: A Cure is within our grasp. It’s not a matter of If, but of when and how.

Dylon Gookin, East Mesa Relay

I Relay for hope: something I haven’t seen in my experiences with cancer. When putting up stars and moons, or decorating luminaria bags, every name I honor is a moon – “in memory of.” But when I Relay, I see the hope. The sea of purple shirts walking the first lap, the survivor stories, the lights changing from hope to cope to cure. As I walk the dark track during the luminaria ceremony I read the names of loved ones and I can feel the sadness, but I can also feel the hope. It is impossible to ignore the readiness to fight that lingers in the air at Relay. I Relay because, with that fight, there will be a cure.

Bre Duffy, East Mesa Relay

My friends and I had just finished walking the first lap of the luminaria ceremony. We were crying, as our group has been hit hard by cancer, not knowing exactly what to say or do. Eventually, all 10 of us got in a big circle in the middle of the track and put our hands around each other. We were standing there sobbing in our big group hug when the youngest member of our group, an 8th grader (the rest of us were sophomores or juniors) went over and grabbed a lit candle from a nearby table. She brought the candle into the middle of the circle and told us that it represented hope, that there was a reason we were here tonight with each other. She then gave the candle to the girl who had recently lost her mom to cancer and we took another lap as we began to FIGHT BACK! I am so grateful I could experience another luminaria ceremony with such fabulous and hopeful friends. It wouldn’t have been the same without you guys. I love you all!

Liz Schutz, East Mesa Relay

As a three-time survivor and a Relay”veteran” I leave the event every year with increased hope.  The involvement of the youth at Relay gives me HOPE for the future of the event and for future community involvement.  Sharing stories with other survivors gives me HOPE for a future free from the threat of dying and suffering from cancer.  Knowing that legislators will respond to the needs of relayers who contact them gives me HOPE for increased government-sponsored research funding.  And finally, the attendance of thousands gives me HOPE for future generations that won’t have to hear the words “You’ve got cancer”.

Russ Gillard, East Mesa Relay