Our mom often used the phrase, "no hill for a stepper". I have been reminded of that many, many times over the years in my life, and more poignantly this past weekend. Michael's family stepped out, if you will, in support and loving remembrance for the "fight" he endured throughout his three year multiple myeloma diagnosis. He tried everything that doctors suggested, from the steroids, to the chemotherapy, to the stem cell transplant, NONE of which was any easy feat! It confirmed my understanding, even more, that no one truly comprehends the cancer journey until they walk it themselves or with someone near and dear. The toll is not only on the patient, it is on the caregiver, the family, the loved ones, the neighbors, the co-workers. Cancer has a spiral effect, something I knew all too well, only to re-live through the eyes of my sister, and her husband. So it was nothing less than a privilege and honor to walk among the small, but mighty family, Michael's wife, and sons, and Sarah, in the Multiple Myeloma Walk in Washington, DC. Matt had suggested it way before Michael left us, and how simple it would have been to just stay home and honor from afar, how easy it would have been to abandon plans because they weren't coming together like we had planned...but Michael never took the easy road and none of us did, either. We conquered, we arrived, we mourned, but we lived, and it was "no hill for a stepper".
Well, actually, I'd be lying if I said it was truly "no hill for a stepper". It was! I believe we walked at least a 5K EVERYDAY we were in DC! We had the time of our lives. We combined a mini-vacation with the true purpose of the weekend, having so much fun that to a casual observer, one would never know that we were not just set for life, happy and carefree (and Joe H., we are rich, right???:). Looking deeper, of course, one would know that our hearts were as heavy as our legs after 10 hours of walking through the streets, museums of DC. At times the tears came, others, we were so comforted by Michael's memory that we felt as light as a feather. Other times, well, I would look behind for his physical presence. Was he on the bench, resting? Was he reading and absorbing all the facts and information he could gather? Was he people watching? Where was he? It was obvious, while not physically present, one knew, he was there. The presence is not diminished, and if anything, he was there in ways he never could have been before. We laughed, we remembered, we cried, we thrived. We rose early and went to bed late. And though our bodies screamed out at times (well, for Karen and me, at least), there was to be no complaining...it was "no hill for a stepper".
We were Michael's Steppers, appropriately named, after all. I don't know how many steps I took over the course of four days, all in the name of Michael Powers. And not just at the Sunday morning 5K. The steps taken each brought about something, around every corner something new to see and a new memory to cling to...the steps taken were painful at times, especially the day I forgot to take my morning tylenol, so that the burning and flare ups of fibromyalgia set in, but no complaining, here. If I were so inclined, I would hold on to another memory, the ones of Michael taking on all the pain to find a cure, the ones of my own Allison sitting in a chemotherapy chair, or enduring so much radiation that her legs gave way, or of my own father being fed through a feeding tube. These memories stay strong, and everything else pales in comparison. We were Michael's Steppers, all of us, Karen, Joseph, Matt, Sarah, Joe and me! We may not have been the top team of the day, or raised the most money, or had the most people, but that wasn't the point. We were there, all who could be, in unison, proud to wear our green, proud to wear his name, thankful that God had the tender kindness to take Michael to a place of peace, where there is no pain, no conflict, no raging disease.
There is nothing in life we cannot do, Michael's legacy lives on, not just this past weekend, but always. Proud to be a "stepper", I truly know that he was proud, we got up, we moved, we enjoyed, we savored, and in everything we now do, we find Mom's statement to be true...this life is "no hill for a stepper".
Love you, Michael.
2 comments:
heart warming to read! I use the phrase often thru my life, Ain't no hill for a stepper! This is what my wonderful grandmother, "granny" used to tell us girls growing up when we complained about whatever. Miss that little lady!
Just found this by searching "ain't no hill for a stepper" who, coincidentally, my granny used to say all the time. Always wondered where it came from and never took the time to find out. This tribute is much more than I ever expected to come across explaining it, and really moved me some 11-ish years after the fact.
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