‘Relay for Life’ a personal and group effort

As the years pass, Relay for Life becomes more and more significant for me. It also becomes more personal.

I participated in my first Relay when I was a sophomore in college, I think. I had some friends who were excited about staying up all night, getting free food, playing games and watching our classmates do ridiculous things to raise money for the American Cancer Society, so I went (and stayed up for more than 24 hours).

At the time, I knew a couple people who had died of cancer. My dad’s friend and former Wasilla Christian Church pastor, Chris Savino, passed away when I was still in elementary school. The only grandpa I ever knew, Paul Skvorc Sr., died in 2009, less than a month before his 79th birthday. I hadn’t seen him since I was about 6 years old, though he called often during my middle school years.

But there were success stories, too. My friend Taylor’s younger sister Madeline was diagnosed with leukemia before she entered middle school, and was “cured” before she entered high school. An ex-boyfriend’s mom also had a cancerous tumor removed, and last I heard she was cancer-free.

I walked for all of them, but I don’t think I knew of anyone actively battling cancer at that time. The deaths were long enough passed and far enough removed from me, I think, that the event was more of an all-night party than a solemn remembrance.

And that’s kind of the point of Relay for Life — to spend more time celebrating life and success than death and deterioration.

My junior year, I was staying up all night anyway to finish a short play I was writing for this 48-hour play project, so I figured I’d walk a few laps at Relay during breaks. I think that was the year a sophomore student and swimmer named Grace lost a very short battle to leukemia. I hadn’t known her, but I knew her death was hard on her teammates — at least one of whom was my teammate for a different sport — and that saddened me. I think that was also the year my friend Grant ran/walked 26 miles around the track for his mother, who had cancer.

In January of 2014, Grant committed suicide. It was hard on a lot of people, myself included. Perhaps that’s why I keep writing, talking and thinking of him. But the reason he is important to this story is because, during Relay in particular, I remember those 26 miles, that dedication. I don’t really know how running, or walking, laps does anything for those who have or have had cancer is at helpful. The event is probably supposed to be more about raising money. But something about that endurance, I think, inspires people — especially when the distance the participant goes is farther than they’ve ever gone before.

Last year, the Relay for Life of Mat-Su was my very first assignment for the Frontiersman. I was still a freelancer, just out of college, and it was just three photos with captions that printed the following Sunday or Tuesday. My dad’s friend Jim, a former pastor at Wasilla Bible Church, had been diagnosed with cancer the Thanksgiving before (while I was in Japan), and the track was lined with many bags in support of him and his wife, Lynda. (She beat cancer years ago herself, but I didn’t know that until Jim got sick.)

On Nov. 6, 2014, Jim left us. He had been the friend to my dad that Pastor Chris was and more, but he had also been a friend to me. He officiated the marriage of my sister and her husband. And after one long year, he was gone.

But it wasn’t just Jim’s passing that made this year’s Relay even more significant for me than the last. It’s the growing list of people I know with cancer affecting their lives. There are people I only know because they’ve been fighting cancer, and I’m the one assigned to write their stories.

Hopefully you can tell by now that those stories are not just assignments to me.

To Jeremy and Ashley Wedge, Jenn Mikkelsen and kids, “princess” Gabby Matthews, Joel Shelton and family, Kelly Marre and family, the Toothakers, and all the university students who cycled from Austin, Texas to Anchorage, Alaska last year to make a statement against cancer…I remember you. I remember your stories. And I Relay for you.

I’ve never been a part of a Relay team, and I’m not sure I ever will be — as I ran my four miles around the Menard Center parking lot last weekend, I realized that the walking/running aspect of Relay is a quiet, solitary thing for me. Sometimes I just need to hear the silence between me and those who have passed or could not be present. But I would like to engage more in the activities next year, if time allows, and see more of my friends at the event.

This year, 29 teams and 160 donors raised $52,598.89, according to the American Cancer Society’s Relay for Life website. Local organizer Jousette McKeel said the committee’s still counting checks though, and people can continue to donate through Aug. 1 for the 2015 Relay. Just visit bit.ly/1BRKPPp or relay.acsevents.org and type 99687 in the search box.

Caitlin Skvorc is a Mat-Su Valley-grown reporter with a penchant for creative writing.