" I have learned that love does not end, not even with death; it continues to express itself in ways ever new." by James E. Miller

I nervously anticipated the five mile drive to the hospital to be a serious challenge; it wasn't.  My two-door sedan, with me trembling behind the wheel, was mysteriously steered and guided safely to my destination by the grace of God.  Cincinnati was blanketed in pure white; frozen silent and motionless due to the unexpected record-setting heavy snowfall, eighteen-and-a-half inches of accumulation.  Ice, snow, and salt layered the interstates, highways and back

roads.  A snow emergency had beendeclared and we were forbidden to travel.  The news focused on the weather forecasts, school and business closings, and accidents. 

Time was moving forward with each news' update as children of all ages were exhilarated by nature's playground, a beautifully landscaped, magical winter wonderland.  But my time halted abruptly with a thirty-second phone call from a family member.  My rapidly beating heart ached as my own childhood raced through my head, minute-by-minute, day-by-day, season-by-season.  Mental images of me with my sister, Cheryl, playing, laughing , scheming, cooking, crying, singing, dancing, and praying  were reeling at fast forward speed in my head and as vividly as those actual moments in time.  Tepid tears flowed freely down my face as I tightly gripped the steering wheel with both hands replaying the images of my youth. 

Family members gathered at Cheryl's bedside and joined hands in prayer as Father Mike, a family friend, blessed my courageous, beautiful sister with the sacrament of the last rites.  Cheryl's hospital room was crowded, hot, and the emotion-filled air had a dizzying affect on me.  I separated myself from the somber group to seek solace in the hospital's tiny chapel.  I sat there puffy-eyed and numb, gazing hopelessly at the altar.  As tears streaked my cheeks, my sister-in-law  held me and gently advised, "Denise, don't even try to figure it out."  

Five years following Cheryl's death, I grieved openly and privately, with and without family members, while maintaining my stay-at-home mom responsibilities and happily raising my three, very active children.  I attended social functions, walks, and races to raise money for breast cancer awareness. I shared story after story of fond memories of Cheryl, trying to permanently etch her distinctive characteristics into my brain.   I kept Cheryl's memory alive in a variety of ways including burning a candle in prayer at St. Patrick's Cathedral every Christmas in New York City .  Four times each year I would drive to her gravesite in Caryville, TN which is beautifully set overlooking The Great Smoky Mountains.  I would visit her gravesite just to "chat," but each trip always presented me with one or two symbolic celestial messages from Cheryl.  With time, the gut-wrenching knot in my stomach loosened, but I was still troubled by her death.   On my most recent visit in September, 2003, I returned home to Cincinnati feeling unfulfilled and questioning God's purpose for calling Cheryl home at the young age of forty-four. I still longed for understanding. 

Having grown up the middle of five children and a tomboy with endless energy , I participated in a high school sport every single season, field hockey, volleyball, basketball and track, all four years while swimming year-round.  In college, I played two sports to allow time to study.  I was the one who would climb out of a high school "lock-in"  for the thrill.  My curiosity had always taken me places where I probably shouldn't have been, like atop a water tower in the middle of a cornfield.  Nothing surprised my lovingly patient parents.  As I yearned  to somehow make a difference in fighting the disease...breast cancer... which ravaged my sister's body (not her soul) and changed my world forever, a physical/mental challenge became more and more alluring to me.

Cheryl's memory will be my hiking partner as I privately nurture, sing, dance, and pray, to celebrate the precious earthly time that we did share together as sisters. Please join me in my 3,100 mile Continental Divide Trail Charity Hike for Hospice as I re-examine life and realize rainbows......... in loving memory.
 

Ladybug