My sweet Delta Omicron sister, Rachael, has joined the angels in heaven. She fought a very courageous battle with melanoma.
Rachael was one of those amazing people who handled every challenge with grace, and she took on this particular challenge with unending faith in God’s plan for her.
I ran my first marathon in her honor. I carried a necklace for her, and I gave it to her after I finished the race. I have run so many miles while praying for her that I can’t even give a solid number. When a training run got hard, I prayed for her and hoped to handle that specific athletic challenge with the same grace that she showed while battling cancer every day. Running just won’t seem the same without her.
I was blessed to be able to see her on her last day on this earth. Our college friends and Delta Omicron siblings all went to UW hospital in Madison, and we got to hold her hand. We cried together, prayed together, and laughed in her memory. Special thanks for my friends… Ashley, Amanda, Mary, Curtis and Mo, Jaime and Karl, Kenny, Sarah and Josh… We all got to be together which was wonderful. Rachael would have been happy to know were there for each other.
Grief is a very strange thing. One moment, I feel like my world is crumbling, then the next moment, I feel okay. Just when I think things might be getting easier, something reminds me of her, and the vicious, stinging tears begin again.
Yesterday, my friend Kim suggested that I meet her for a run. I didn’t want to get out of bed, but I’m glad I did. A quick five miles made me feel so much better… Until I put on my Delta Omicron sweatpants and lost it in the locker room.
Last summer, we lost a sister, so Rachael is the second in eight months. After TK was gone, I swore that I would live my life to the fullest. I’d be a better _____. It’s amazing how when your friends are taken from you at such a young age, it gives you perspective. I wonder how my life will change this time as I heal from this wound.
Right now, I am filled with sadness. I know in my heart that Rachael wouldn’t want me to sit around, crying for her. Nonetheless, I feel like I’m wearing an invisible cloak that weighs 1,000 pounds, and trying to be my normal positive self seems impossible. I just ordered the flower arrangement for Rachael’s funeral, and I had a hard time writing the card- there just isn’t a way in existence for me to put into words how special Rachael was and how much she meant to us.
I will continue to pray for Rachael’s family and all her friends, as we grieve together. I ask for special prayers for Truman, Rachael’s boyfriend, as he goes through this intense sadness.