By RJ Bardsley
Over the past few weeks I have been covering the Barlows/Callahans, a family out of Newburyport, Massachusetts, that participates each year in the Pan Mass Challenge. Many of the family members ride in the two day race to raise money for cancer research; those family members who don’t ride help raise money for the team. The team is named Make Way For Molly, in honor of one of the youngest family members who suffered – and fully recovered from – a form of leukemia as a child.
One of the biggest fundraisers for the team – an evening dance, auction and dinner event is coming up on May 5, and it seems like everyone in Newburyport is pitching in to help out. Newburyport is an amazing community – at times it feels like one big family, especially around events like this. People from all walks of life have lined up to lend a hand and give something to help this team raise money – from donations for the silent auction to food prep for the dinner to sponsorships for the riders on the Make Way for Molly Team.
I love what the Make Way For Molly team is doing, and I love the way the community is pitching in to help, and I love writing about and covering this team for the BrandFiller blog. But it’s not easy for me. If I’m honest, I have to admit that I distance myself from this topic when I write about it. I spent the past few days reflecting on this, and I’ve decided to share with you why I distance myself. At the risk of getting too personal for this blog I feel it will underscore how important the work is that Make Way For Molly and other teams like it are doing.
When I hear the word “cancer” I think of one thing – every time, without exception. I think of my Dad. I hear the word and it doesn’t matter where I am or what the context is, I picture my father. You see, my dad passed away a few years ago after a bout with esophageal cancer. It is a nasty form of cancer; it goes through your body like a tank and usually kills you pretty quickly. In my dad’s case it took about six months. The transformation was devastating as he went through a round of chemotherapy and then another round of chemotherapy. Not to give you too much more than you want to stomach, but we found out on the day before Christmas that his first round of treatment had failed. After that there was a second round, which also failed and eventually he ended up in the hospital after the cancer had surprised everyone and almost instantly spread to the rest of his body. I remember him turning to me after the doctors had told him there was nothing left that they could do – he asked me what that meant, looking up at me and hoping that he might have missed something.
It was gut wrenching as I watched my best friend, my father, a man who had literally or figuratively carried me through my entire life, waste away and try to do it with dignity. I remember vividly standing in a room at Mass General Hospital with four doctors and a hospice worker as they explained to me that it was over for my father and there was nothing left to do. I remember the feeling of profound sadness, emptiness, hopelessness and loss that swirled around me at that moment and never seemed to leave me. I remember the days, then weeks, then months and even years of missing him that followed. Eventually, I emerged from that. I’m not sure how. Even now, looking back on the year that followed his death, I can’t remember feeling much. I remember sitting for hours and just thinking about him.
So to put this in context, the Make Way For Molly team is working to raise money so that this doesn’t have to happen to people. I watch this family and the community around them, and I feel so deeply grateful for what they’re doing that I can’t really express it. I try to – I write about how they’re making progress, I participate in the fundraiser and I sponsor the riders. But in my head and in my heart, most of the time I have to keep it all at a distance. It’s like a giant hole in my heart that I can’t get too close too for fear that I’ll fall back into it.
I’ll wrap this post up now – there will be more coverage of the Pan Mass Challenge and Make Way For Molly. I have some great stories from the team that I’ll post about in a few days, and of course, I’ll be covering the silent auction on May 5. But if you’re reading this I urge you to participate in some way – ride, give, donate your time – because some day, what these people achieve in their drive to end cancer will make a difference, maybe even to you, personally.
As I write this, tears are rolling down my cheeks….but know this – you are very much living proof of your father’s legacy -
I think of your Dad often and still have a picture of Randy and Kate on our bulletin board in the kitchen. For me the only good part of being in Sitka was living across the street from the Bardsley’s.
As sad as this post is, somehow it just feels right and Make Way for Molly is doing, in my opinion, exactly what it’s meant to do – its not just about making money to find a cure, it is about providing an outlet for hope, a shoulder for grieving, a place to heal, or an ear to express every emotion that comes along with cancer – sometime even joy in cases like Molly’s. I look at this blog and am thankful to Make Way for Molly as a place that Rj can express his grief and continue to heal ~ as much as one can. I am thankful to Make Way for Molly for bringing together a community to continue to make a difference in the fight against cancer and I am thankful to Make Way for Molly for showing us all that it is ok to celebrate, unite, have a party, have fun, laugh, cry, hug, dance, – as long as you are doing something Make Way for Molly continues to make a profound difference in all the lives that it touches ~ just as I believe it set out to do in the first place.
We shall dance for your Dad- celebrate a life, a son and a father. Cancer spares no one, leaving destruction and chaos in its path. We dance for Molly’s life, but we also dance for those that lost their fight. Tears are good, they bring you right to the soul….Beautiful piece, thank you for sharing. XOXOXO
AMEN!
RJ, so beautifully written and capturing the emotions of many of us who have witnessed the devastation caused by cancer. Your dad left us so very young in his life. It is soothing to hear how he was such a positive force for you. Always remember wonderful times in Alaska with Mom, Dad, You, Mike and that mangy cat.
Thank you for this, RJ. Your perspective and honesty really make a difference; changing how I read and digest the posts about the Make Way For Molly fundraiser – making it real and present for all of us. At this very moment, I pray for you, your family and even your dad who is now resting peacefully.
As I read this post, anger spread through me. I don’t want to feel that way, but thinking about what your dad went through simply made me angry. Cancer makes me angry. Watching my grandmother lose her battle makes me angry. Watching my 32 year old childhood friend lose her battle, leaving behind her 6 month old son, makes me angry.
However, like you all, I intend to be merry at the fundraiser, supporting the amazing cause, celebrating our lives, Molly’s life, remembering those we have lost, as we celebrating them and the affects they have had on us.
Cheers to you, my friend. Your dad must be so very proud of you and all of your accomplishments! xoxo
RJ,
As I am reading this, tears are flowing down my cheeks. I am so sorry for you and your family. I didn’t know your Dad and have only had the pleasure of knowing you for the past two years, but I can tell he must have been and incredible man to have brought up such an intelligent, caring, loving son. Mike’s Dad also died of cancer 3 years after Molly was diagnosed much in the same fashion as your Dad in Mass General. Mike still has a hard time driving by there. We also lost a dear friend John Hayden to a brain tumor while Molly was in treatment. Mike rides with all of their names on his helmet and my son Sam rides with his grandfather’s picture on his sleeve. The Make Way for Molly Fundraiser is not only about Molly but it is a tribute to all of those who are living with cancer, those who have died of cancer and their loving families whose lives have been turned upside down.
It is our hope that the money raised will wipe out this horrific devastating disease.
See you next weekend when we can “raise our glass” to your Dad, Mike’s Dad, John Hayden, Molly and so many others. Thank you for all your support and kindness
Wow, what a moving post Rj……going for the kleenex box! It is awesome all that the Make Way For Molly team has contributed to the PMC. There isn’t a person I know that has not experienced cancer in some way be it themselves, a relative, or a close friend. With all of the money the PMC brings in great strides are being made in the fight against cancer, but there are still so much work to be done in conquering this battle.
We look forward to seeing everyone on Saturday night as we all join together to support this incredible cause!
Rj, I read this the other day and had to leave it for awhile, it touched me so. Tears, maybe even a few gulps were there and I knew time for reflection was needed. Cancer has touched us all. Your memory of your father’s suffering and death at a young age and your deep sense of loss makes us realize that we do go on, but things are never quite the same. What you shared demonstrated that not only are you a wonderful writer, you have a beautiful soul. Please don’t ever loose your sensitivity and love for others. God bless! Know the Make Way for Molly fundraiser Saturday will be a huge success.
Eleanora