This one time I raised some money and ran a race and on my back I carried ribbons with names on them, names of people who have lost their battles with cancer, people who are fighting still, people from this community, people from my block, people from Seven’s class, people who mean something to people I love but I do not know, I have never met.
This one time I sent those ribbons out into the world to the people, expecting nothing, a little embarrassed by the gesture, wondering if it was awkward or appreciated.
This one time a person who I have never met, who fights still, wrote me back and the ribbon that traveled with me 26.2 miles he now wears as his name badge on his chest when he twirls my Mom around the dance floor.
That is pretty fucking cool.
(I use poor language sometimes to keep from crying.)
If you ever wonder, should I run for something, will it make a difference: it does.
