The First Step

As I stepped out onto our porch, I took a deep breath. Ed was still in bed, and the girls were parked on the couch, watching Saturday morning television. I walked to the end of the driveway, boots crunching on the freshly fallen snow. I picked up our newspaper and took it into the house. Placing it by the coffeemaker where Ed would find it, I contemplated trying to find the camera. The snow was so pretty, but finding the camera was going to take too much effort. Instead, I stepped back out that front door and started walking. It was cold. Not bitterly cold, but cold enough.

Almost as soon as I put my earbuds in my ears and turned on my MP3 player, I took them out again. Snow was drifting out of the clouds, falling gently to the ground, and yet there were birds chirping and conversing with one another. I wanted to listen.

About half a mile later, I decided I would listen to my music. My playlist, titled “Random,” actually is fairly random. From “Layla” by Derek & the Dominoes to the Dixie Chicks, from Beck to Stone Temple Pilots, I walked and listened. One foot in front of the other, pushing myself forward.

The sleepy, snowy neighborhood was slowly waking up. One man was shoveling his driveway. A car rushed by. In a hurry on a Saturday morning? I spotted another walker behind me, a woman with a pink knit hat.

As I walked, I thought about the laundry that always has to be washed, dried and folded. I thought about rehanging the valences on Lily’s windows. I was having trouble with her curtain rods. And I thought about all the blog posts I was going to write in my head that would probably never be written down.

I’m about to do a lot of walking.

A couple of weeks ago, I signed up for the Avon 2-Day Breast Cancer Walk. I committed to walking about 39 miles in two days. I committed to raising $1,800 for breast cancer research and treatment.

You already know why. My life has been dramatically affected by breast cancer.

Every five years that I survive breast cancer, I have committed to walk and raise money. This is my third walk; this will be my fifteenth anniversary of survival.

This is, however, the first walk I will participate in without my mom’s support. And if I write any more, I’m going to start crying.

Mom, this walk is for you.

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Since I blog with the pseudonym of Ginny Marie, I’m choosing not to post my fund raising page. If you would like to make a donation and help me raise money for breast cancer, please email me at lemondroppie[at]gmail[dot]com, and I’ll send you more information. Thank you!

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