The Sisterchicks ran the race for the 3rd year in a row. Although the emotion of the Race for the Cure isn’t as new to me, it is still as real. There are still women dying of breast cancer. I HATE CANCER. There were thousands of people at the race last Saturday wearing pink shirts, tutus and tiaras—all to honor the strong women in their lives who have been diagnosed with breast cancer.
The first two minutes I was there, I wasn’t really thinking of those women. All I was looking at were the shirts. Who had cute ones? Which ones had funny slogans (uh…breast friends forever…)? Did any of them look cooler than ours?
Then I saw a man with a homemade puffy paint monstrosity of a shirt. And I kinda rolled my eyes at him.
I saw his young elementary aged son behind him. Also wearing a puffy painted shirt that read:
I MISS YOU, MOM.
And I pictured him and his dad at Wal-Mart picking out puffy paint and buying white tshirts. The dad realizing how important it would be to do something to honor his wife and the mother of his child. The little boy working his hardest to make a beautiful shirt to honor his mom. His father, realizing how different the shirt would have turned out had his wife been there to help.
This is why we run.