This year I walked with a childhood friend.
We knew each other from grade school and high school, lost touch, then reconnected over FaceBook.
She was joined by friends, family (her mother was my Girl Scout troop leader), co-workers and a bunch of attractive soap opera stars (her sister is an actress).
It was a day of catching up.
While confetti was tossed at the starting line and adorable 8-year-old twins, holding up our team sign, lead the pack around the 5K route.
|I asked them to pose like a rock star!|
My friend, sporting a very short 'do', was pushed in a wheelchair as she is still recuperating and getting her strength back from chemo and surgery.
That didn't stop her from smiling and laughing the entire time, while urging us to 'take it easy' over the pot holes.
She is a survivor.
Along with so many others we walked with this morning.
Our team was a happy one.
The day felt jubilant.
Drums played as we went through the tunnel and onto the field to receive our medal.
|Finish line was inside.|
But all around us were reminders.
Pictures of loved ones.
Signs that said, 'walking in memory of...'
It was a day to rejoice, a day to remember, a day to raise money to keep on fighting.