Relay for Life

Sorry I haven't posted in awhile.  I went home this weekend because I thought I left my hard drives in Cleveland.  But I didn't.  When I got back to Columbus I was so upset with myself.  I had a lot of pictures of my mom stored in those hard drives.  I was really worried that I lost those physical memories forever.

Thankfully, my boyfriend found them at the foot of my bed, under piles of blankets and clothes and what not.  I'm so dumb.  *shaking head*

The trip home wasn't entirely discouraging however.  I got to see my Cleveland friends, specifically Ilya and Sarita, close friends of mine from high school.  They both attend Case Western University.  Interestingly or ironically...maybe both...Case Western Reserve University was having their American Cancer Society's Relay for Life this weekend.  Ilya invited me to come.  I gladly went.

I got there at the end of the luminary ceremony (around 10PM).  Previous to this ceremony,  everyone who has a loved one who died of cancer, knows someone who has cancer, or knows a cancer survivor lights a candle and places it into a paper bag full of sand, so it does not blow over.  At the luminary ceremony, everyone is silent except for a couple people who read off the names of everyone who has a luminary.  After the reading, everyone takes a silent lap around the track.  

I got there just as they were starting the silent lap.  Ilya kept asking me if I was alright and giving me hugs.  I actually was very unmoved by the entire ceremony.  I'm not sure if it was because I had just jumped in or if I simply was not affected by it.  And I felt terrible for not feeling...terrible.  People around me looked sullen.  I saw a couple students sit by their luminaries crying.  I thought it was sad to see them in mourning, and I could emphasize...but I personally, was not moved. 

After the silent lap, Ilya asked me if I wanted to make a luminary for my mom.  I almost said, "No It's alright."  But I felt like that would've looked weird, so I said "Sure."  I lit a candle for her, and placed it in a bag which I wrote "In Loving Memory, Chinluen Judy Hu," and set it on the inner ring of the track.  Ilya gave me another hug and asked me if I was alright.  Once again, I said I was fine.  And I was...disturbingly very calm and unaffected.

My inability to become sad really disturbed me.  I felt like I should have been crying, I should have been leaning on Ilya's shoulder for support, and I should have thought about my mom more that night.  

But the truth is, I didn't.  Does that make me a bad person, a bad daughter?  Does it make me heartless?

Maybe it's because I heard that The American Cancer Society isn't as good as everyone says it is.  Or maybe it's because I don't mourn in public.  I am a very private person...which is ironic because I'm typing all this stuff in a blog...but I actually don't talk to many people about my loss.  In fact, I get quite uncomfortable if I'm supposed to show my emotions in large public places, which is another reason why I took this blog off of my class' Art of Podcasting Blog.  

I don't think I'm heartless, and I don't think I'm wrong for being disconnected at Relay for Life.  I look around and I feel like a lot of people don't understand.  The survivors understand, and the people who saw death understand, but the people who are raising money, don't.  And it's great that their raising money for cancer research...but...they don't know what my mother's story is.  Reading her name off of a list doesn't honor her existence enough.  And lighting a candle that has to be blown out in 5 minutes because I came late doesn't make me feel any better.  

Everyone's story and everyone's experience is different.  For some people, Relay for Life makes them feel better.  For me, it doesn't.

I send my condolences to all those families and individuals touched by the effects of cancer, and I hope they enjoyed Relay for Life.