When we were driving this morning we got an email from Team 1 who were dedicating today's ride to Meghan Ferguson's Dad. As she mentioned she couldn't say this but put it in writing:
-----Original Message-----
From: team1@givetolive.ca
Date: Wed, 21 Oct 2009 14:25:16
To: Team 2; Team
3; Team 4; Team
5; Team Halfway;
Patti Currie; Todd
McDonald; Ashley
Ward
Subject: Today we ride for children no matter what age
I decided to write this because I knew I wouldn't be able
to say my message outloud. But it is a
message that I wanted to share.
We have all been affected by cancer but I write this
through the eyes of a child who has lost a parent, a daughter who has lost a
father.
What is a father to his daughter? He is her rock. He is her protector. He is her knight in shining armor. He is the one who never forgets a kiss and a
hug goodnight. He keeps her safe. In 2005 my dad was diagnosed with pancreatic
cancer - a terminal diagnosis. Instantly
my life as I knew it was taken away.
The next 7 months were filled with trips back home, trips
to the docter, sitting in the chemo unit.
We knew that my dad's battle was never one of survival - it was a battle
to maybe give us an extra week or maybe even a extra month. As Christmas came that year, I knew we were
"getting ready" for our last Christmas - how do you do that? How do
you enjoy it? We just tried to pretend
it was any other Christmas. We laughed as we enjoyed our usual traditions.
In may 2006 my dad passed away. Just 2 weeks before he and I were talking and
he told me he knew he was ready to go.
As calmly as he told me, I understood. It was the most surreal
conversation - like a bad dream almost. I spent every hour with my dad in the
last few days before he died - I didn't want him to be alone when he left. Quietly he left late one night.
During my dads illness and In the next few months after
his death, I lost my memories of a
daughter. When I closed my eyes I
re-lived the sights and sounds of what cancer did to us. I soon learned that families and especially
caretakers can be affected by a form of PTSD in the form of the inability to
see anything but the tragedy.
What has this ride given me? I am a fairly private person and telling my
story has helped me heal. I have climbed
mountains like no other for my dad.
Teammates with me, driving beside me and embracing me at the end of it
all.
My father gave me resilience and I made it to the other
side. My memories of a daughter have returned.
This ride has truly let me live in my fathers afterglow.
Today team 1 rides for children who have lost a parent to
cancer and children whose parent is still battling and those whose parent won
their battle.
Meg
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
