The following letters were posted on the SportBrain forum. Time is Eastern Daylight Time.
Posted July 13, 2001 7:09 PM
Today is something special to me. It was 37 years ago that my mother died of cancer. She was only 40. And I know, I have a tendency to get negative at times, but I am lucky. I'll be thinking a lot of her tomorrow as I try to go for a PB, because I'm doing my marathon walk in September in her name. You know, I'm the luckiest guy in the world. Some people never get to know their parents. I had my mom for 14 wonderful years, and my dad for 38 years, and I thank God every night that I had them as my parents. I hope and pray that SportBrain stays around, because I got some of the best friend in the world on this site. I'll let you know tomorrow night if I got my PB done.
Our greatest glory consists not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.
- - Oliver Goldsmith
Posted July 14, 2001 3:34 PM
I got up at 5 AM with a specific goal of doing my PB in memory of my mother. My PB before today was done on June 29, 2001 when I did 32,918 steps, so I knew I was in for a long day. It was 37 years ago yesterday that my mother died of cancer, and I wanted to reflect on how much she meant to me. I knew the vibes were going good when I found a brand new 2000 Boston Marathon Jimmy Fund shirt in a shipping envelope as I was getting dressed, so there was no question what shirt I was going to wear. I dropped a load of laundry into the washer, put on my set of wireless headphones, turned on CNN News, and started walking on the treadmill. I was getting frustrated with CNN News because they would not give the score of the Boston Red Sox New York Mets game last night. After watching CNN News I tuned my Replay TV to watch an episode of Cheers. After one hour I took a small break, put my clothes in the dryer, logged in to SportBrain and saw that I had done over 7,500 steps. I sent a quick message to tell a very good friend how my progress was doing, and logged off.
I went another 70 minutes on the treadmill, watching the last part of Fantastic Voyage and another episode of Cheers. I checked on my stats again at SportBrain and sent another message saying I was at 16,085 steps and that I was going to Delcastle Park in Delaware. I was drinking a Diet Coke at the time and was thinking that if my mother could see me now she smack me for drinking a soda so early in the morning . I went to the Boston Globe site to see that my Red Sox beat the New York Mets 3 to 1, then I logged off. I grabbed my cooler and put in a half gallon of Gatorade and Crystal Light. I looked for my Boston Red Sox ball cap, but could not find it. I grabbed my Minidisk player with my 4 Seasons music and my cooler and headed to the car. First stop was WaWa to pick up ice and a Philadelphia Inquirer, then off to the coffee shop for a cup of coffee and a Boston Crème donut (you expecting something different) To keep the good vibes going I made sure the CD changer in my car had nothing but 4 Seasons music.
I started my walk at the park and try to think what was going on 37 years ago. I was in the middle of a three day local camping trip, which was to be followed up by a one week National Jamboree at Valley Forge, then three days at the 1964 New York’s World Fair. We (the troop) were camped out at Ward's Hill in Methuen, Massachusetts. My mother died on July 13, 1964 at 6 AM. That night after supper I walked out into the woods by myself. This was about 8 PM. I did not see my mother, but I heard her voice telling me that it was all over, there was nothing to worry about any more. I walked back to the camp fire and told my scoutmaster that something real bad has happened to my mother. It was 37 years ago today when I saw my dad and my Uncle Mike (my mom’s brother from Glace Bay, Nova Scotia) walking towards me. My dad was wearing a black suit, my Uncle Mike wearing a gray suit, both with white shirts and black ties. I ran out to the field as fast as I could screaming "Daddy, daddy, how’s mommy doing?". He said she died yesterday. My legs were beginning to collapse from under me so I made a diving tackle to grab his legs, crying and saying "I know. Mommy told me last night that she died." I remember the wake (it’s called a viewing here in south New Jersey). It was an open casket wake. I was amazed what the cancer had done to my mother. Before she came down with cancer for a second time she weighed over 200 pounds. She was less than 70 pounds when she died. I was crying when my Uncle Ray (my dad’s brother) came up to me and said "Men don’t cry." That moment I went from being a boy to a man as I looked him in the eye and said "This man is going to cry." It was sad that many years later my Uncle Ray was to suffer the same fate as my dad, dying of colon cancer.
I kept thinking during my entire walk today about my mother. She sacrificed a lot for her children. She never had fancy clothes, jewelry or furniture. She just wanted the best that she and my dad could afford for us kids. I never got along with my dad but it was his impending death with cancer that got me involved in raising money for cancer research. This September 30 I am going to attempt to do a 26.2 mile walk in memory of my mother for the Jimmy Fund. I never did a fund raising event just in my mother’s name, as it was either just my dad, both parents or someone else. Sorry dad, this is for mom only. I had resolved today to do my PB in a training walk in memory of my mother. I can say I have accomplished my goals as I went 34,652 steps. If I could talk with my mother today I would say "Mom, thank you for all the camping trips that I went on. Thank you for all the times we went to the beach. Thank you for all the times you took us skiing. Thank you for taking us to Howard’s Grove. Thank you for taking the family for the whole month of August in 1963 at Big Island Pond, and waiting until the following September to see the doctor, even though you knew something was wrong but you did not want to ruin the kids vacation. Thank you for sending me to Glace Bay Nova Scotia where I spent three summers and actually got to shovel coal and blow the whistle on a real operating steam locomotive. Thank you for taking me to see Ted Williams play his last game at Fenway Park. Thank you for Busty (my dog). Thank you for the Lionel train set. Thank you for having the back yard flooded every winter so the neighborhood could have a skating ring. Thank you for making 34 Durso Avenue a home and not a house. And most of all mom, I want to thank you for being my mother." Dad, I just want to say thank you for marrying and taking good care of mom. I’m the luckiest guy in the world having you two as my parents. My walk today is dedicated in memory of my mother, Kathleen Marie Richards (7/6/1924 – 7/13/1964). One last favor mom, pray that I do not make a fool out of myself this September 30. I miss you.
Posted July 17, 2001 11:16 AM
The reason I asked my mother to pray for me so I don’t make a fool of myself on September 30 has to do with a real funny story in 1960. I was an altar boy at St Patrick’s Church in Lawrence, Massachusetts. St Pats has a down stair chapel. The main chapel is up stairs. Back in 1960 the Catholic Church still had the Latin Mass with the priest facing the chapel. New altar boys had to practice during a weekday or Saturday morning Mass in the down stair chapel before either serving a Sunday Mass or in the up stair chapel. I just got permission to serve my first Sunday Mass in the up stair chapel. The bishop was going to say Mass. My mother invited everyone in the world because little Brian was one of the two main altar boys. My mother was sitting in the front row, proud as could be. Towards the end of Mass just before the last gospel the two altar boys go up the stairs, one altar boy picks up the Missal on one side of the Tabernacle, the other altar boy picks up the veil that covers the Chalice, then the altar boys walk down the stairs, genuflect before the Tabernacle, then crisscross and go up the stairs to place the veil and Missal on the opposite side of the Tabernacle. I had the honor of picking up the Missal. It was on a very heavy stand and the Missal itself was very heavy. Here I am walking down the stairs with the Missal. I genuflected and you guessed it, the Missal fell off the stand. All you could here in a silent church as this loud sound of the Missal hitting the ground, followed by my mother saying out loud "Jesus Christ Almighty". After the Mass the bishop came up to me and said, "I did not know who to give last rites to, you or your mother." Needless to say my mother never sat in the front whenever I was serving Mass again. Now you know why I ask my mom to pray for me so I do not make a fool of myself this September 30.
