{"id":14234,"date":"2015-08-30T16:01:22","date_gmt":"2015-08-30T20:01:22","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.katrinakenison.com\/?p=14234"},"modified":"2015-08-30T16:01:22","modified_gmt":"2015-08-30T20:01:22","slug":"a-friend-remembered-a-legacy-and-a-video-to-watch","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/katrinakenison.com\/new\/a-friend-remembered-a-legacy-and-a-video-to-watch\/","title":{"rendered":"a friend remembered, a legacy (and a video to watch)"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"VersionI<\/span> love this photo. Four friends who have just changed out of heavy boots and into flip flops at the end of a long day of hiking. We would sleep fitfully in our bunk beds that night in Greenleaf Hut, high in the White Mountains, under scratchy woolen blankets. We would smush soft pink plugs into our ears to drown out the roof-rattling snores from the mens\u2019 dorm. And in the morning we would laugh our way down the mountain in the rain.<\/p>\n

We would not talk about cancer or clinical trials or miracles. We would not mention what we all knew to be true: that this would be the last time we\u2019d ever climb a mountain together. For twenty-four hours, we simply savored the moments at hand: the glorious views from the top, the soggy sandwiches in our backpacks, the slick trail under foot, silly jokes, wet socks, togetherness.<\/p>\n

Just over a year later, in October 2010, my dear friend Diane died of ovarian cancer. (That’s her in the black fleece, looking radiant despite the fact she’d spent the early morning in the hospital getting an experimental treatment.)<\/p>\n

A<\/span>s I type these words, I carry another close friend in my heart as she nears the end of her own journey with cancer. And I am reminded, with equal parts of gratitude and sadness, of the lessons Diane taught me during her illness.<\/p>\n

Loss attunes us to what is meaningful. And although a cure may not be possible, healing always is. Diane never once asked, \u201cWhy me?\u201d Instead, she said, \u201cWhy not me? It could have been any one of us who got sick.\u201d<\/p>\n

And with that, Diane made two decisions: to respond to her disease with aggressive treatment and to fully embrace the simple pleasures of her everyday life.\u00a0Under the cutting-edge care of the Dana Farber Cancer Institute, she was able to do both for nearly four years.<\/p>\n

Diane couldn\u2019t change the outcome of her disease. But her commitment to hope and healing never wavered. From the time she was first diagnosed until the final weeks of her life, she worked tirelessly to support ovarian cancer research.<\/p>\n

Each year, over 25,000 women are diagnosed with ovarian cancer. It was Diane\u2019s wish that earlier detection and more effective treatments would improve the odds for every other woman who might follow in her footsteps.<\/p>\n

Her courage and commitment are my inspiration.<\/p>\n

L<\/span>ater this fall, I will be having two consecutive hip replacements. My own walks these days are short. My steps are small. My pace is slow. But I\u2019m determined to keep moving. And on September 27, I will once again lace up my sneakers and join Team Diane for the Boston Marathon Jimmy Fund Walk. Although I can\u2019t commit to the full 26. 2 miles this year, I\u2019ll do what I can. I\u2019m more aware than ever that this cause is so much bigger than any one of us.<\/p>\n

Walking together over the last four years, our small group has raised over $150,000 \u2013 money that goes directly to Diane\u2019s oncologist, Dr. Ursula Matulonis, and her cutting-edge research team at Dana Farber.<\/p>\n