Each week we will be picking members to spotlight to tell their Alzheimer's story and why they are running in this year's New York City marathon. Check in each Wednesday, Friday and Sunday for new updates on who will be spotlighted and get to know your teammates...(each person is picked at random)
My Nana, Cathleen “Cass” Keating was one of the funniest,
kindest and smartest women I ever knew. She was tough-as-nails, but also the sweetest grandmother a kid could ask for. Her laugh warmed your
soul and I miss it every day. I also miss just watching her and my
PopPop, who had a storybook romance. Even the biggest of cynics could
see it, as they would take impromptu twirls around the kitchen while
cooking dinner. Watching Cass suffer with Alzheimer’s was extremely
painful for my family, especially for PopPop. We lost him a year after
she passed away to a heart failure. He was literally heart broken.
Watching ny Naana lose herself a bit more every day was one of
the hardest things I’ve ever had to watch. One morning while we were visiting her and my PopPop she was so there - completely Cass.
And then it was like a switch went off and she was gone. She came
back an hour later and was completely terrified. I remember hearing her
cry in the bedroom asking PopPop if what happened to her dad was
happening to her. He didn’t lie to her and the sobs that followed still haunt
me today.
My mom’s side of the family is all too familiar with
Alzheimer’s. It has taken my Nana, her father and her grandfather. Nana was one
of five sisters - three have passed away from Alzheimer’s. My Nana
was able to say goodbye to all of them, but the last one... well,
neither one of them knew who the other one was. What’s fair about that?
A disease that makes you forget the people who are most important
in your life? Makes you forget you?
I often say I hope I get Alzheimer’s if it somehow spares me
watching my mother, father or brother go through it. It’s a morbid
thought, I know. A thought that I’m happy to report has changed since I
began running with this team last year. Maybe, just maybe, if we keep running and keep fundraising I won’t have to wish for an outcome because we can beat this horrible disease.
When the marathon was canceled last year I was devastated. I had trained so hard for my first marathon and I couldn’t wait to
cross the finish line in purple. I even had special shoes made “For Cass.”
I was extra disappointed since I knew I would be moving to Boston and
would no longer have that feeling of running through my whole city and crossing that finish line I used to live ten blocks from. But
you know what? New York is still my city and I’m still running for Cass.
The shoes might be different but the goal is the same. After
watching the Boston marathon this year, a few fire was lit under me. Not only
to run in NYC but to go cheer on those runners next year in Boston.
And I know the feeling is the same in New York. Canceling the race was
the right thing to do and those who suffered through Sandy will be
there to cheer us on this year. And so will Cass.
I’m so proud of each and every one of you. We’re doing this
thing again! This time we’ll complete it. And then we’ll keep going
because we don’t stop until we beat Alzheimer’s. That I know for sure.
Thank you for inspiring me to keep running and keep remembering. I
cannot wait
to cross the finish line with all of you!
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