Small but mighty

Most often my Judester blog posts are about how sad I am and how much I still miss my brother. Mainly because it helps my mental state to get those feelings out. Today though, I want to share something good about my life. I want to talk about Melissa. Regular readers of The Judester might remember Melissa as my original "I won't be fat and forty" walking, then jogging, partner. But over past few the years, she's become so much more than that.

In 2005, Melissa and I set out to lose some weight and get healthy. Despite an open invitation to all the middle age women in the neighborhood, Melissa was the only one willing to brave the 'hood's winter winds with me. We walked and ran together for over a year. Then Jim was diagnosed with cancer and my running became sporadic. Melissa didn't mind sporadic, and she was always there to head out with me during the year Jim was ill to "get the cobwebs out" and relieve some stress. I really needed our talks. Then Jim died and my sporadic running became non-existent. After many months of inactivity, Spring sprung and I knew I needed to get out there again. I was sad and unhealthy. Melissa was there to go with me. But something was different with me this time. I was driven with some crazy ideas - like I wanted to run a half-marathon; I wanted to run a marathon; I wanted to push myself farther and not just for the T-shirts this time around. That really wasn't Melissa's thing, but she didn't abandon me. Instead, she offered up her husband who had just taken up running! I believe her general sentiment was "Here - he's got just as crazy running ideas as you do! Have fun with that."

And so off Russell and I went in search of the best middle-age, newbie running experiences - training, gear, races, you name it. Now, here I'd like to pause and say Melissa is one smart cookie. She continued to run. She'd go with us when it suited her, but she's a solo runner. In the early years, she would constantly shoo me, saying "Okay Judith, you need to stop talking now and leave me alone to run." I suspect Russell gabbed at her just like I did when they ran together. He also had the same crazy running ideas I did about the best training plan, the best gear, etc... So by foisting him off on me, she took the heat off of her at home. She could continue to run casually and when he would talk to her about pushing farther, she'd say "Oh go take those crazy ideas to Judith!"

The thing about hanging around crazy people is it's contagious. This Sunday, Melissa will join Russ and me to run her first half-marathon. She's going to kick ass. I'm so excited for her. She bought herself a running necklace that has two charms on it - one says "Believe." The other says "13.1." She bought one for me too. Mine says "Small but mighty."

It is perfect and means more to me than just running. I recently wrote how the month of May seemed too big for just me. I'm now wearing my necklace to remind myself that I may feel small, but I am mighty. I was smaller than Jim in stature, but I was his big sister. I couldn't cure his cancer, but my small shoulders helped carry some of his burden during his illness. I was mighty in heart and love. The month of May still seems too big for just me, but I although I might not be able to fill the space on my own, I'm mighty enough to handle the emptiness. So with much love, I say "Thank you" to my friend Melissa.

The month of May

Well, here we are at the beginning of April and my dread of the month of May has already begun. I absolutely loved May as a kid. We ended April with Dad and Grandma's birthday on the 30th (that's her in the picture). Then it was my turn on May 14th. My cousin Susan had her birthday on the 20th, and Jimmy closed out the month with his birthday on the 28th. It was a fantastic month of birthday cakes and presents. Jimmy's birthday, being at the end of the month, usually involved a barbecue outside and summer time presents. I remember the year he turned 3, he got one of those plastic pools with a little slide. They put a little water in it so Jimmy could reach over the side and play. I, being the big sister, wanted to use the slide, but it was too cold to actually be in a bathing suit and get in the water. So against mom's wishes, up and down the slide I went, carefully standing up at the bottom of the slide, making sure I didn't get wet and incur mom's wrath. Yeah, that didn't work out so well and I incurred her wrath. He also got a red wagon that year. It was bigger than mine and my cousin Susan pulled him around the yard in it. I was very jealous. Funny the things you remember.

Jimmy and I shared May. It was ours. I got the first half, he got the second. I don't like having the entire month to myself. May feels empty now - too big for just me. Without Jim to close out the month, all the other dates that made May such a big deal seem small and lonely. I don't want to celebrate my birthday anymore as it reminds me that we won't be celebrating Jim's. I want my birthday to pass quickly and silently by.