Running the Race with Gratitude, Perseverance, Hope, and Faith – Sprint V

Before we step into Sprint V, I want to return briefly to the remarkable and resilient woman I introduced in my previous post—Devika Washington—and her beautiful family. The photo from her wedding in September 2020 captures a moment of pure joy and love. You can almost feel how deeply her family cherished that happy occasion.

John 14:27 reminds us: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.” These words have stayed with me, offering encouragement and grounding my heart whenever uncertainty tries to take hold.

I’m also sharing a photo from my middle-school years with my Fr. Uncle, someone many of you may recognize. He was a priest and a U.S. military chaplain who brought me to the United States. To say I miss him would be an understatement. After retiring, he lived with my family for nearly 20 years, becoming an ever-present source of guidance, prayer, and love. He passed away in 2023, leaving behind a profound legacy of faith and service. During my middle- and high-school years in India, I wore a blue-and-white uniform as a student at a Catholic girls’ school—a season of life filled with faith, formation, and fond memories.

For this leg of the race, I asked the women one deeply meaningful question:

“What supportive words or gestures lifted your spirit and helped you feel seen and encouraged?”

Their responses, along with my own, are woven throughout Sprint V and help shape this chapter of the journey.

Patti:
My husband really stepped up.  He attended every appointment and every chemo treatment.  He meets with the oncologist and asks questions, voices concerns.  He keeps others informed of situations.  Just his desire to put everything else aside when I need him more than I ever have has given me such warmth and peace.   I also have a couple of friends who continually text me just to say hi and ask if I am ok.  And I have found that fresh flowers bring me much joy even on the hardest days.  I couple of times I have been given floral arrangements that between the visual beauty and lovely scent, signify life which I fight for every day.

Jennifer:
I realized there were quite a few women I knew who had had a breast cancer journey. I reached out to hear their story to help me make decisions about mine. Everyone’s cancer scenario is different, everyone’s treatment or chemo cocktail is different. Realizing all these others survived their ordeal that, in most cases was more extreme than mine, was very enlightening and uplifting. It gave me strength. 

Devika:
During my journey, three friends and one family member were also diagnosed with breast cancer. We support each other through fear and uncertainty, sharing strength in ways only those walking the same path can understand. I also found incredible comfort in my “pink sisters” — survivors who had already fought and won this battle. They made me feel truly seen, understood, and never alone.

One of the most uplifting moments was being invited to the “Dancing for a Cure” event in October for Breast Cancer Awareness. I received a badge that said “Survivor.” Who knew that one small pink badge could make me feel so proud and seen? There were more than 50 women dressed in pink, dancing, laughing, and encouraging one another. The hugs, the smiles, and the words of encouragement filled my heart to the brim.

Some of the women there celebrated being 32 years cancer-free — hearing that alone was incredibly uplifting. It reminded me that survivorship isn’t just possible, it’s powerful. I didn’t realize how much I needed that — to be heard, to be understood, and to be celebrated by women who had walked this same journey and emerged victorious.

My Response:
As I began sharing my diagnosis, I quickly realized I was not alone. Nearly everyone I spoke with had been touched by cancer—either personally or through someone they love.

My family checked on me constantly from different states, offering prayers, encouragement, and even travel to help during my surgeries. Before leaving India in September, my Archbishop uncle gave me a blessing, knowing surgery awaited me in October. With my surgeon’s approval, I went on that trip quietly, sharing my diagnosis with very few while I was there.

My children stepped in with love and care. My son came home for fall break the same day as my biopsy, gently taking over daily tasks. My husband and Gail were by my side during my first surgery on October 2, and my daughter cared for me during my second surgery on October 14 while home for her fall break. Even after returning to college, both checked on me often—knowing I would try to return to normal far too quickly, which I did.

My church family surrounded me with prayer, cards, and a beautiful prayer shawl. Friends who feel like family visited, brought meals, and checked in faithfully. Colleagues from SECU, both past and present, showered me with encouragement, flowers, and healing gifts. Friends from other parishes, my daughter’s friends, and her roommate’s mom lifted me up through prayer and flowers.

If I’ve missed anyone, please know how deeply grateful I am—including my pink sisters featured in this blog. My support system has been extraordinary. Their prayers, love, and quiet acts of kindness carried me through and gave me strength when I needed it most.

Thank you for running Sprint V with me.

Up next is Sprint VI, where I’ll take you to the sacred place where I’m standing—and share how deeply it’s connected to the village where I grew up. Stay tuned for the story behind it.