Swimming for Dad

Me, My Daddy and Sackal after last year's swim

This morning was my first time back in the Hudson since the Swim for Life last September.  On that bright morning, last year, my Mom, Dad and sock monkey, Sackal, cheered me on from the shore as I swam. Today, since it is Father's day, as I swam, my thoughts drifted to my Dad.  

I am the first to admit that I lucked out in the parental lottery. My parents are everything one could want in parents; they are goofy, irreverent, brilliant, adventurous and warm.  I have never doubted for a moment that I was loved beyond measure and that my parents were rooting for me.  I am a lucky girl.  My Dad is one of the last true gentlemen. He is a kind and gentle man with incredible patience and a wicked wit. In the hurricane of women in our household, my father is always the calm center, holding us together with just the right balance of wisdom of word play.  My Mom often exasperatedly points out how much my Father and I are alike, and I hope that she's right, even if together we drive her crazy :)

In the water today, I thought about my Dad, because about 10 years ago, he had a brief battle with cancer.  Though he came out the victor, it was a terrifying time for our family.  I am so thankful that he came through still laughing and making every new day an adventure, that he's been around to meet his first grandchild and to cheer his crazy daughter on through polar bear plunges and swims in the Hudson.  He is the reason I swim...I am lucky to have been given an amazing Dad from day one, and if my swimming can help another daughter's Daddy kick cancer's ass, then sign me up.  If you want to help, please visit my donation page .  

Happy Father's Day!

Answering the Call...Again

At the end of the Hudson River Swim for Life last year, I looked at the river and thought, "I'll get you next year".  Our three mile swim had been cut to one mile due to dangerous conditions. The river was swollen and churning. The Coast Guard said no. I was disappointed. That mile was the longest mile I had ever swum, but at the end, I felt a little robbed.  All those months of training, visualizing the long swim across, I had figured if I didn't make it, it would be because I couldn't, now I didn't know.  I promised myself I would be back. I kept swimming twice a week, at least a mile.

Then, my body exploded.  After three surgeries, a six day hospital stay and ten long weeks of recovery, I figured my date with the Hudson would have to be cancelled.  Every day I drove past and stared at the river longingly.  It called to me. I dreamed of swimming.  Every lake and stream and river called to me.  I bugged my doctor. "Two more weeks," he said, week after week after week. 

A friend's husband was diagnosed with Leukemia and I fell called to swim to honor and support him, but my doctor kept saying "two more weeks'. When he finally agreed, grudgingly, that I could get back in the pool, I signed up for the swim immediately.  I had to answer the call.  I swim because I need to prove that I can. I swim for all those whose bodies have betrayed them. I swim for the patients served by the LLS and their families.  I swim because, finally after lots of "two more weeks", I can.  I hope you'll support me in this journey, in whatever way you can.  Read the blog, cheer me on, join the team or make a financial donation. Your financial support will help patients with LLS through patient services, advocacy and research. Please visit my donations page to contribute.