wow, am I behind in my blogging. The relay was a month ago. It was an interesting first experience. Through a series of events, it ended up just the kids and I. We thoroughly intended to stay the night and do the entire 24 hours, but things don't usually work out the way I'd planned them. Comes from having 5 kids I think. (yep, blaming it on the kids. That's what there here for)
I'd never done the relay before but since we lost Daddy in January to bladder cancer, I decided to gather the family and start a team in honor of my Dad. I've always said my Dad was the only Irish son of an Englishman ever born. He never did fit into his English family, but he sure did love Mom's Irish roots. So, Loacha Le Leigheas was born. (loosly translated it's Warriors for a Cure)
The kids and I got there at 7 am and set up camp. Since I was the only adult present, I had to stay at our tent to handle the fundraising and the kids did the walking. The day went alright, with the kids having a blast at all the other fundraising stations. (I spent a small fortune but it all went to cancer research so it's good) I remembered to sunscreen the kids well and often, me not so much. By 4 the front of my legs were so burned they felt like they were on fire. Then hubby stopped by on his way home from work and he wasn't doing well. He'd had surgery less that a week before I was fairly concerned about him so I decided I didn't want him home alone and we would pack up and go home.
So there I was, packing everything up, in pain and worried about hubby, feeling kinda sad because I had really wanted to be a part of the memorial lap and see all the luminaries that were lit and my Dad's photo that was going to be on the screen. I could hear them on the loud speaker talking about the lap and remembering our lost loved ones.
Just as I was feeling really depressed about the whole thing and thinking the whole endeavor had been a miserable failure, the most amazing thing happened. the Balloons we had tied to a weight by our tent came loose. They floated up about 50 feet and then were blown over the track. So there I was, all by myself standing in a field, watching the shamrock shaped balloons float over the track during the memorial lap.
And there it was, my tribute to my Dad.
I softly whispered "I love you Daddy" and then I packed up my children and went home, where we belonged.
