Who is Rori?
A lost sticker on the ground at Jones Beach during the Making Strides Against Breast Cancer event. // Megan Naftali / In Sheer Magazine.
I went to the Making Strides Against Breast Cancer event presented by Teachers Federal Credit Union and the American Cancer Society for multiple reasons. I wanted to be there in honor of my grandmother who was diagnosed with breast cancer, and my mother who passed away from pancreatic cancer. Attendees were able to show their support for their loved ones who were survivors or passed away from the disease. One tent had an arch designed with pinwheels in memory of the lives lost. Another was giving out stickers that people could write who they were walking for and another had a wall that people could write on.
The other reason I attended was because I wanted to share the stories of others who have had the disease or know someone who has. After all, you don’t fully understand cancer unless you see it or feel it firsthand. One of the stories I was captivated by is one I can’t necessarily tell.
As I was walking through Jones Beach Field five where the event was taking place, I stumbled upon a name sticker on the ground that must have fallen off of someone. The sticker read, “I walk for Rori.” I don’t know who wore the sticker or who Rori is. Rori could be a beloved grandmother, mother, daughter, sister or friend. Rori could be all of the above. Whoever Rori is, someone woke up early on a Sunday morning to support her. What intrigues me the most is that everyone who has cancer is, in a sense, like Rori. We know that she has cancer, we know that she is or was fighting for her life, but we don’t know her journey.
Before my family was personally affected by cancer, I didn’t care to learn about it or hear about people’s stories because I thought I didn’t need to. No one I knew had cancer and I felt lucky. That changed when in less than two years, my family was turned upside down. I didn’t understand what cancer does to the human body. How it can shut down every important function a person needs to survive. Watching someone, especially someone you love, die slowly in a truly agonizing way, changes you. It makes you start caring about learning about the disease and it forces you to be more compassionate when hearing someone has it.
I may never know Rori’s story, but I know someone was out there for her, just like I was there for my mom and grandma. Cancer can feel very isolating. I didn’t leave my house or see any friends for a month after my mom was diagnosed. It’s hard when no one you know understands what you are going through. Going to events like this shows you that you are not alone. There are people experiencing the same heartbreak and pain, and when you support each other, it’s a beautiful thing.
