the3Day: Seattle 25-27 August 2006

We never set out to come here. Somewhere along the way to the rest of our lives, the road bent, and we found ourselves here. For some of us, the bend in the road was only days or weeks ago, but others of us have been on our way to this moment for years. We started out as daughters, friends, mothers, sisters, wives, as brothers, fathers, husbands, or sons. We walk in the shadow of a disease that has taken someone from us, or that has ravaged our own bodies, and when we walked alone, our burden is almost too much to bear.

Now, though, we have come together to share the dream of a world without breast cancer. Though our common fear and grief draws us together, when we hear each others' stories, and we tell our own about those we loved and still love, about the inspiration we draw from those who are now fighting, about our fears for ourselves and our daughters and our sons, more than fear begins to bind us together. For three days we talk with those who walk for the first time, and those who are veterans of Seattle and Charlotte NC, Vancouver, San Diego, Washington DC. We talk with those who guide us through traffic intersections, who cook our breakfast, put bandages on our blisters, and drive us in a van to the next stop. We talk with those who come out of their business or their houses or pull up in their vans to wave as we go by.

There are tears on the Three Day: for many of us, this act is a memorial, a way to honor someone close to our hearts. But there is also a lot of laughter on the Three Day: that's part of the fight. We tease each other about the hills, the heat, the long stops at traffic lights, the long lines at the pit stops. When we walk away from the Three Day closing ceremonies, we know that we are no longer alone.

Somewhere in the Puget Sound, in the first three minutes of its normal workday, an oncologist will open the door on a waiting patient, and deliver the bad news: the test results for breast cancer are positive. The patient is here because she scheduled a mammogram. Now her future narrows to chosing appropriate options: there may be surgery, radiation, or chemotherapy. But she has a choice. Her diagnosis is not a death sentence. Her mammogram, her diagnosis, and her treatment will be paid for by funds raised by the 2700 walkers and 300-plus crew and staff of the Seattle 2006 Three Day.

She is not alone.

All text and photographs copyright © 2006 Christe Ann McMenomy