Walking Through Hell

Yesterday it became obvious. I am taking another trip through emotional hell. I love those. Not.

Yesterday I paid off the house. It is a good thing, a glorious thing, and Rob made sure I had the money from his life insurance to do that. However, I kept thinking of how we were going to do this together, and then we would travel, take pictures, and enjoy the rest of life. I almost didn't make it through the 30 minutes it took to finish the paperwork and wire the money. I was sobbing by the time I reached the van. I just sat there, with my head on the wheel, and cried.

Tonight the children and I are walking at Relay for Life. Our team is special this year. Everyone is either a cancer survivor or caregiver. It is a special team to be on. It is also hard. I miss my mom.

Tomorrow is our delayed family Easter dinner. I usually love these things because I have an incredibly cool family, but this year my thoughts and heart are heavy. Last year I knew Rob and I were coming apart, and I was at a loss of what to try now. Rob went to the dinner with us and pretty much isolated himself. He didn't want to play games. He didn't go outside with us for the Easter egg hunt. We have family pictures from last year with everyone in them...but him. I remember seeing him sitting in one of the stadium seats in the theatre room. That is the only place I remember seeing him last year. Will he still be sitting there when I walk in tomorrow?

This week is Anna's birthday. Yesterday I met one of Rob's friends--one of our family's friends--to order Anna's gift. Rob had it on his list on his computer. As dumb as it sounds, I can't bring myself to erase it. Anna is sort of dreading her birthday because Rob isn't here. I totally understand.

Next Sunday is Mother's Day. Not only do I have no one to buy a card for, but there is no one to take my children to buy a card or gift for me either, and they love to do that. The last text I have from Rob on my phone was sent the evening before he died in the night. It says, "Thank you for being such a great mom for our kids." It's my pleasure, Rob.

And my tears fell fat and hot yesterday, and they fall even as I type.

It is a very rare thing for me to want to drink myself into a place of oblivion to silence the noise of the last year or its effects right now, but yesterday was a rare day, and it is seeping into today.

However, instead of succumbing, I worked out yesterday morning, mowed a yard, walked nearly an hour last night, and spent time with my children. Today I will mow my yard, buy a new fridge since mine went out Monday and is not worthy of repair, and I'll reread the speeches I gave the last two years at Relay and the thoughts I jotted down in case I was asked to speak again this year and remember why I walk. And I will pack water bottles and snacks, put on my good walking shoes, and head to the track where hundreds are gathering to honor the lives of those they love--to mourn the ones lost, to encourage the ones still walking, to stare death in the face and declare, "I still believe in life."

And I do.

So I choose to keep walking.

Because We Have Hope...

Once again Anna and I are participating in Relay for Life, Wylie/Sachse event, April 29th.

At the event, our team will camp out overnight and take turns walking around the track to raise money and awareness to help the American Cancer Society. The first year we participated I wanted Anna to see that even a child can make a difference. This year we are participating for a different reason. This year we are participating because we have HOPE.

I walk because I have hope...

I hope my being here, wearing a Caregiver shirt gives courage to someone else wondering how they will endure the trips to the doctors', watching their loved one sick from treatment, and the letting go that may ultimately be required.

I hope to give someone a smile, a laugh, a better day because I'm here.

I hope to be the hand up when someone feels like they cannot take one more step.

I hope that when I hit that wall that says I can walk no further someone sees me take one step more and knows he or she can, too.

I hope to share the story of my mom with others who know the importance of the immortality of stories, the words of love, and I hope they share theirs with me.

I hope to scream into the crowd, into time, and into the face of the enemy that I will not be defeated, I will not bow down, and I will not quit, but I will walk as long as their is someone who needs someone to walk with them, who needs someone whispering, "Yeah, the road is hard, but you can make it," who still has hope, too.

I am walking because I hope to make a difference in the minds, hearts, and lives of those fighting their own battle with cancer, whether that be through medicine, keeping head high even with the worst of prognosis, or grieving a loss. I am walking because I believe even greater than research is relationship and knowing in this fight no one is alone.
--Jerri Phillips, 2011, profile page

Please prayerfully consider supporting us as we hope and we encourage others to hope as well.

God bless you and yours,

Jerri and Anna Phillips

Anna’s Page

Jerri’s Page:

Please do not feel you need to donate to both of us. If you are trying to choose between us, it is my desire that Anna’s fundraising goal be met. And if you are unable to support us financially, would you consider praying for us and maybe sending a note of encouragement to Anna? If you email me on her behalf, I will gladly forward it to her, or you can feel free to email her yourself. Thank you for your support.

What Are You Running On?

My car died. It did a herky-jerky sort of death throws dance, let out a hideous grumbling moan, and died. Too late I realized what was wrong. In my frenzy to get where I needed to be, I had put diesel in my gas-powered car, and now it was dead.

I see hauntingly familiar dance moves in my home. Sarcastic comments when someone’s question annoys one’s superiority complex. Bickering barbs thrown at each other over miniscule offenses. One person in this room. Another in that one. Four people spread to the winds...

(Join me at The Christian Pulse to find out how God takes an out of control family and puts them lovingly in order.)

Relay for Life Survivor Dinner Speech

Friday night I had the honor of giving the welcome and invocation for the Survivor Dinner for the Wylie Relay for Life. I don't know anyone whose life has not been touched by cancer. Whether you are battling this enemy, fighting for someone who is battling, celebrating victory, or grieving a loss, I want to share this as encouragement. Wherever you are on your journey, I pray this blesses you.

May your hope be strengthened, and may you keep on walking.

God bless you,
Jerri



Wylie Relay for Life Survivor Dinner 2010

Last year when my daughter joined a Relay for Life team, we didn’t know much about Relay for Life. We understood the logistics of it. We understood raising money. We thought we understood all night.

However, there was so much we didn’t understand. We didn’t understand that Relay for Life isn’t a once a year event. We didn’t understand that once we were done, you weren’t really done. We didn’t understand that when we went home…we would take it with us.

We joined a Relay for Life team last year because my eleven-year old daughter had realized the world was a big place with big problems, and she didn’t feel a little person could make a difference. When I found out Stacey was a team captain, I asked if she had room for two others. No, but she had room for one, and Anna would fit perfectly.

The first day we set up her webpage and set her fundraising goal. Later that day, she exceeded it, and we upped her goal. Over the next few weeks, we upped her goal three or four times. When the day came for Relay for Life, she was very proud of the money she had raised, and because of the nice graphic on her webpage and the team’s page, she could see that her efforts were making a difference.

Then we got here, and the nifty little graphic on the computer suddenly became people…with names…faces…and families.

Each luminary that encircled the field told a story of merciless attacks on innocent victims. Some of the stories ended in victory, and some ended in tears. We have been part of those stories.

Each survivor that walked through this tent and slipped on a “Survivor” ribbon was a face we knew…the face of someone precious, someone loved, someone with a purpose, someone of promise. We have touched those faces, too.

Each caregiver that humbly wore their ribbons…the little girl who wore it for her mom, the parents who wore it for their pre-school son, the husbands, wives, sisters, and brothers…We know them. We’ve walked with them. We’ve prayed for them.

We were here to walk for people, and they weren’t the strangers we thought they would be. They were people we sit down with at family dinners, the people at our school functions, our neighbors next door. The people who walk the hard road, who become exhausted, who wonder if the mountain is too big…but still keep walking.

And people kept walking…all night long.

Some walked for those they had lost, and some walked for those in the middle of the battle. Some walked for those who had overcome. Everyone walked for a cure.

See, it’s not relay for raising money.
It’s not relay for a better treatment.
It’s not relay for endurance.
It’s not relay for 5-year expectancy rate.
It’s Relay for Life.
… for a full Life.
… for a long Life.
And every step gets us closer to our destination.
Every step gets us closer to the cure.
And one day, we will get there.
We just have to keep walking.

Copyright Jerri Phillips 2010

Gratitude 20--Relay for Life

Friday night my daughter Anna participated in Relay for Life. While I did not raise money, I was a full participant along with her. It was a great joy to see her succeed and walk away with such a great sense of accomplishment. It is a time for which I am greatly thankful.

I am thankful for many things associated with our participation in Relay for Life.

1. The Survivor Dinner celebrating those who have beaten cancer.









2a. Black tape that held down potted plants and tablecloths in the 30 mph sustained winds.









2b. Hubbies who help out.









3. VOLUNTEERS!!! Male, female, adult, and teens. They rocked!!!

4. Kitti's found keys

5. Purple Care Giver sashes worn by so many loving friends and family members

6. Flamingo Flocking that raises a lot of money

7. Two one-man teams that walked or ran 12 hours all by themselves logging 50 miles and raising large amounts of money

8. Cupcakes

9. Teenagers who really liked the cupcakes!

10. Elvis, who bought $30 worth of stuff, gave us two $20s, and then told us to resell all but one cookie. He did that for every team there. Talk about class!

11. Farmers Electric with their barbecue pit and great prices on delicious food.

12. Fun games for the young folks to play when they weren't walking.

13. Sleeping bags for warmth, even if we didn't sleep.

14. Five "strangers" who became friends so Anna could do the Crazy Bat race.

15. Jordan, event co-director, who worked hard to make sure the teens had stuff to do.

16. A Memory Garden

17. Luminaries glowing brightly

18. Survivors walking the first lap, screaming with their presence, "Cancer can be defeated!"

19. Teenage boys who walked around the track bouncing basketballs and pulling toddlers in a wagon.

20. Comfortable shoes.

20b. That my toe where I lost my toenail didn't hurt AT ALL!

20c. For bandaids for the HUGE blister on my pinky toe of the other foot.

21. Everyone who donated.

22. Everyone who prayed.

23. For soft grass to walk on when aching feet could not tolerate the track any longer.

24. No storms.

25. Fun laps--toga lap, 70s/80s lap, team attire lap, crazy hat lap, and pajama lap

26. Team members who took us in when they didn't know us

27. Water

28. Pancake breakfast

29. A safe trip home after a long night

30. Nearly $70,000 raised in the fight against cancer

31. The feeling that an 11-year old can make a difference

32. The teens that should make their parents proud because they conducted themselves well and stayed committed to the very end

33. A safe hour long drive home after being up all night.

34. The priceless privilege of being part of my daughter's life.

35. The crazy desire to do it all again next year.