I had my last training walk with the Avett Girl a Sunday ago. Like a mantra in my head I kept telling myself to make the most of this walk and talk and walk with her – this last time. After this day I knew in my heart of hearts nothing would ever be the same.
Out of everyone I
wanted needed to tell, I suspected Avett Girl would be my hardest audience to face. Side by side we strode through streets while I prefaced my bad news with every ugly detail of the past nine months. I was working my way backwards to the logical conclusion, “so” [deep breath] “this will be my last year.” She understood…yet. Yet, we walked in silence.
I knew this saying goodbye was going to be hard. I knew it the moment I gave it up. It’s like a divorce. I’m confident I’m doing the right thing and yet, it’s painful. This is a charity that has meant the world to me, but it’s time to go. I just want to slip quietly out the back door and go unnoticed.
Last night I worked on my Saturday shirt, added three new names in the flowers. This cancer crap won’t quit although I will. How odd is that? This morning I sent off my last collection of donations. I missed the deadline by ten days. Someone just this morning texted me with “But, I promised!” I had to laugh. If everyone who promised actually came through with their good intentions I would be fund raiser extraordinaire. There would be bouquets of orchids laid at my feet; they would raise me on their shoulders; toasting my very existence with champagne glasses held high. No such luck. No matter.