 Ginny's husband, mom, brother, and daughter. As you know, there are many reasons and people for who our team relays, but this year was extra special, we were a team relaying with a mission. This year the Yellowstone County Relay for Life was on July 8th, which was Ginny's birthday. She would have been 34 years old. This year's relay came with no small amount of emotion - it was as if we were right back to where we were last September as we were forced to say good bye. And yet it felt right. Finally, another day where the grief that sits so heavily on our hearts could be worn on the outside. Finally, another day where Ginny could absolutely be put to the forefront - celebrated, remembered. People expect you to move on and put the past behind you. But how do you do that with someone like Ginny? Such a beautiful soul - an angel on earth, Noah called her. Perhaps because of all this our team managed to not only meet our goal for this year's Relay event, but we surpassed it by $400. Our team received not a little bit of recognition from KULR-8 either (go to, In the News). Kara was interviewed and spoke with them on camera twice as did Ginny and Glen's sweet Cassidy. (She was incredible, by the way). Yes, the 2011 Relay for Life was a bittersweet event, a million little moments that are etched on our hearts forever. Thanks for your support.
I participated in Relay for Life with my family for the first time during the summer of 2010. I had no idea how much that night would mean to me. As I walked the track looking for the luminaries of those that I hold so dear to my heart, I was amazed and saddened by how many others I was unaware of that were fighting, were survivors, or had lost their battle to cancer.
I will remember forever how I felt watching my father, Paul; my sister-in-law’s brother, Noah; and my friend Ginny walk the survivors lap together. What a mix of emotions. My heart was full of hope because they were survivors. I was so happy and thankful that they were there with us that night. I was also filled with sadness because I had grieved with a friend that had lost her father just months before, and wondered about the pain she had to be feeling as she watched the survivors. How I wish her father could have been there that night with her. I also remember praying for Ginny, asking the Lord to let her be a part of the survivors lap during the summer of 2011, but the Lord had different plans. On September 10th of this year Ginny passed away. She taught me so very much. I miss her everyday and will cherish the memories I have forever. What a blessing she was to all who knew her.
Cancer has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. It took my grandparents from me way too early and now my friend. As a child I did not know just how horrible cancer was. In my mind, the doctors would take care of it. That’s what they did for my Dad; they just cut it out and he was good to go… so I thought. I’m so glad at that young age I did not know just how serious it was. I never want my children to have to feel how I have felt over the years losing my grandparents, watching my friends grieve the loss of their fathers, and more so during the past couple of months having to say goodbye to my friend who had fought so hard for so long. For this reason, I’m so very thankful for the innocence of youth. As an adult after losing a friend at such a young age, I hear the word cancer and my heart breaks. I now know the heartache that so many are feeling. I hurt for those who are just discovering they have cancer. I hurt for those who have won their battle, but fear its return. I hurt for those who fight each day and do all that they can in order to survive. I hurt for those who have had to watch a loved one suffer and then lose that loved one. I hurt for those who have not yet been diagnosed, and have no idea how their life will be changed forever. I walk so that the hurt that comes with cancer will one day be a thing of the past.
Christine Amestoy
October 18, 2010
I will never be able to erase the look on my son's face from my memory when I walked into the exam room and he said, "Mom, I have cancer." Even though he was a 26-year-old man, he looked like a very scared little boy. I had watched my father die of colon cancer three and a half years before this, so the fear I felt was almost unbearable. It was hard to watch my father go through this, but now that this was my child - the playing field had changed. As a family, we stayed strong and encouraged him through the surgery and three months of chemo. I am very grateful to God that I still have my son, but I will forever carry with me the memory of the look on his face. That is why I relay. Every year I see the smile on his face as he walks the Survivor's lap, I am overwhelmed with joy and thankfulness. When I go out and fund-raise for Relay for Life, I always tell people I am a mother on a mission!! I have lost many important people in my life to cancer, I relay in their honor. I have watched my son be saved because of the progress they have made against cancer, so I also relay out of thankfulness. But the main reason I relay is in the hopes that someday, no mother will have to see that look on their child's face. ~ Roberta10/8/2010
Take a moment and think about if you had to make a list. On this list you would put all of the people that you know who have or have had cancer. Without naming all their names, my own list would include: My brother, my grandpa, my great-grandpa, three great-aunts, four great-uncles, my friend, my husband's aunt, his grandpa, my sister's father-in-law and his parents, two cousins, a former student, a friend's mom and dad, a friend's son, my neighbor's mom, a friend's father-in-law, a family friend, and really it could go on and on like this.
I know that as you are thinking about this, your own list is also growing long. Now imagine if everyone put their lists together. How long do you think that list would be? At the 2010 Relay for Life event in Billings, there were 8,000 luminaries. That is only one city and it doesn't even include everyone that is on our own lists. What do you think the number would be from all of the Relay events around the United States? I know it would be way too large, the number of people on my list and yours is way too long, and that is why I relay.
Relay for Life is a way for me to remember and honor the people on my list who did not win the fight. It is about supporting the people who are still in the battle. It is about celebrating those who have won! My favorite part of relay is watching my brother, Noah, and the many others take the Survivor lap and thanking God for that!
Joni
9/20/2010
My boat has capsized in the vast, vast ocean.
All that I hold dear, I kept in that boat. While some of my treasures are still safe in the boat, many have found their way into the icy, cold water.
I, too, am floating. All around me I see loved ones struggling against the waves, the chill and the fear.
Frantically I am reaching out, trying to grab each and every one, but...
I only have two hands.
Some of them make it back to the boat. They are tired and weak, but safe.
I am trying so hard to hold onto all of them all. I can feel my grip slipping.
One minute they are there, the next...They are gone.
I am left behind, trying not to drown in my grief.
And while I thank God everyday for the treasures I still have in my boat,
I miss the ones that I lost in the vast, vast ocean.
This is what cancer means to me.
Although Noah and the Arks may sound childlike and simple, to me it symbolizes so much more. My brother Noah made it into the boat. I cannot even type this without tears overwhelming me. Our family (his arks) did everything we could to keep him afloat during his battle. He won his battle, as did my father-in-law. My grandpa Gil did not. One of my closest friends, Ginny, has been fighting the waves for four years. She is losing and I am drowning. Cancer has scarred my life in so many ways and I have never even had it.
--Written August 2010
On September 10, 2010 my dear friend Ginny lost her battle with Adrenal Cortical Carcinoma.
We love you Gin, we will continue the fight in your memory.
I was five-years-old when my father was diagnosed with cancer, nine when my grandfather died due to complications during a surgery for his cancer, twelve when my grandmother was diagnosed and told she had six-months to live, and was two days past my high school graduation when she succumbed to this vicious disease that gradually overtook her body. Save the specifics - my story is not unique. Cancer and the impact it has is far reaching and touches nearly every human being in one way or another.
Tonight I attended my first Relay for Life event. It was emotional, it was inspiring, it was heartbreaking. I watched my father participate in the survivors lap, which is the grand kick off to this event and was grateful once again that life conspired to allow him to watch his children grow, see his grandbabies be born and become beautiful little people, and to live a life of example with his wife, my amazing mother.
Hope is a major and reoccurring theme in this event. Hope is noting that my grandmother was given a grim prognosis and exceeded her doctors’ expectations years over. Hope is knowing that not nearly all the survivors of cancer were walking that lap tonight. Hope is knowing that brilliant people are working tirelessly to develop a cure so our children and grandchildren will not hear “cancer” and think, “Death sentence.” Hope is knowing that those who have died fighting this disease are long in the hearts of those who loved them and love them still. Hope is sharing this experience with family and friends and celebrating the victories.
Tonight my three-year-old attended her first Relay for Life event. I know she doesn’t understand yet, but one day, as she grows, and we continue to attend this event together she will learn the history of her great grandparents who she never had the opportunity to meet. She will look at her grandfather and know what an amazing blessing it is that she has him in her life. She will see the circle of our family and know she will always be wrapped in its love. Hope, it’s all around us, we just have to reach out and grab it.
--Written July 9, 2010 as published on Examiner.com
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