[2020-12-21] Stories
A friend sent me today this inspiring quote by musician Toby Mac:
What you are walking through at this moment may just be the story that helps get someone else through.
I was touched that she thought of me when she came across the quote. The possibility that my story might help someone else is the driving force behind this blog.
Coincidentally, I just started reading Forever Terry: A Legacy in Letters, an incredible book that includes 40 letters from 40 contributors honouring Terry Fox and his legacy. In many ways, Fox's story is helping me get through cancer. Every time I read about him, I learn something new—some fact that expresses just how awe-inspiring his achievement was.
Actor Shawn Ashmore, who portrayed Fox in the film Terry, learned for himself the physical toll that Fox faced in running a marathon every single day. In his letter, Ashmore wrote:
Like all Canadians, I already knew that what Terry had done was superhuman. Shooting the film, however, gave me a whole new appreciation. On hot summer days, I ran a fraction of what Terry did and with two legs—and I still found it hard. I spoke to professional athletes who said they needed a week to recover after running a marathon; nobody could understand the physical exertion and dedication that Terry put into his run. It was unfathomable.
Communications professional Bill Vigars, who organized media events for the Marathon of Hope, saw that exertion first hand in traveling with Fox and his best friend Doug Alward. Each day, Alward would drive Fox to the precise location where he had left off the day before, proceed exactly one mile along the route, and park on the side of the road. Vigars wrote:
We sat in silence and I soon saw Terry in the rearview mirror, running toward us. I witnessed the effort in every step, with that gait of his that I continued to watch for the next three months. It sucked the breath right out of me. When he needed a break, nobody talked. Terry would catch his breath, eat a little something, and head back out. By about the third mile, after he exited the van, I asked Doug, "How do you watch him do this?" He replied, "I don't." Initially, I didn't understand what he meant. I later realized that it was too hard for Doug to watch his friend put that effort in mile after mile.
Singer Jann Arden marveled at Fox's fortitude to keep running through the vast openness that is Canada:
Every single time I drive across the country in a tour bus and happen upon Thunder Bay, Terry comes blazing into my mind with a huge smile on his face. I think about how long we've been driving and driving and driving; how big our country is, how vast and open and how far it is between gigs, between cities—and then it occurs to me that Terry Fox ran here from Newfoundland. I will never not be in awe of that.
Some of the stories in the book are triumphant. Bill Vigars recalled that by the time Fox made it to the nation's capital, the Ottawa Rough Riders invited him to make the opening kick in the team's Canada Day game. Vigars wrote:
As we came out of the tunnel and onto the field, I remember thinking, "I hope they know who he is." As Terry walked to the sidelines, the announcer boomed, "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome…" He didn't even get Terry's name out and the whole place erupted in a standing ovation that went on and on.
That story brought tears to my eyes. That's what perseverance does: it makes ordinary people extraordinary.
I feel that my contribution to humanity is so small in comparison to that of Fox. It's like I'm playing to local bars while he's selling out stadiums, or like I'm walking while Fox is sprinting a marathon. But that's as it should be. On a personal level, Fox surely faced a much more daunting cancer treatment in 1980 than I am facing in 2020. And through his selfless act of kindness, Fox no doubt did more to raise awareness of cancer among Canadians than anyone before him, and more to raise money directly and through the numerous events held in his name than anyone since. While I spend hours every day on my blog posts (though still nowhere near the time Fox put in daily), I make that effort in the comfort of my home.
Singer Michael Bublé summed up the value of Fox's story in the introduction to the book:
No one goes through life without challenges, times when you lose hope, wonder where your faith went, question if you can go on, struggle with why this is happening to you. Often these situations come out of nowhere. Each of us, at some point in our lives, will be required to reach deep into ourselves and hope we can find the strength within to take one more step like Terry did. This book is a way to prepare for when that time comes. By hearing and learning from the example of the short and beautiful life of Terry Fox, you will be ready.
Before I got cancer, I thought—probably like many people—that having the disease and being treated for it would be physically and emotionally trying. I can honestly say that it hasn't been that bad. That doesn't mean that everyone will have the same experience. But it does mean that for the people who are newly diagnosed and their loved ones, the prospect of facing cancer does not need to be viewed as all bad. It's possible to appreciate life, to feel joy and to have gratitude in the midst of cancer.
In fact, Fox experienced these very emotions while maintaining a grueling pace on his Marathon of Hope. In his own letter, brother Darrell Fox noted:
Many people's memories of the Marathon are of how difficult it was for Terry to run it, but it wasn't all pain and suffering. There were moments during the day and even more at the end when Terry was set free from running and he relaxed.... Those moments were everything to us. There are so many photos of Terry smiling that amazing smile of his, taken during the marathon. Is there a better smile out there?... Those moments of lightness carried over and added just a touch more energy for Terry to use the next day, on the next marathon.
Similar moments of lightness—through the love of my family, comments on my blog posts, and cards and gifts that appear in the mail or are dropped off at my door—are giving me energy to face each step in my own journey. It is my hope that my story—modest and ordinary—will be added to the many other stories of people who have faced cancer and kept going, one step at a time.
