We Honor You: Cleveland Recap Part II

Last week I gave a first impression recap of the Rite Aid Cleveland Marathon. In that post, I said that I wanted to write at least one other post to address my feelings about Taylor Ceepo's death.  I was avoiding writing the post because I was avoiding processing my feelings about all of it. I ran the Medina Half Marathon today (recap to come later), and several people asked me when I would continue my reflections on the events of the Cleveland Marathon.

So, I guess that will happen today.

Sunday was super-difficult for me, as you read in my post. It was difficult for most runners, but it was the MOST difficult for Taylor Ceepo's family.

If you haven't heard yet, Taylor Ceepo, Medina resident, St. Vincent alum, Walsh University graduate, died about a quarter-mile from the finish line while running the half marathon at the Rite Aid Cleveland Marathon. Here is a link to her obituary in the Akron Beacon Journal.

Taylor Ceepo

I didn't know Taylor; I don't know her family. I teach at Medina High School, and I have heard/read that Taylor was a coach for a soccer club in Medina, so I'm thinking that some of my students knew her.  I know that we have some mutual friends who have talked to me about the memorial services.

When I think about Taylor, who was only 22, I think about her parents. I have two kids, Punkin (17) and Butterbean (12), and I am old enough to have had a 22 year old child. My first thoughts when I heard of her death were for her parents.  Elizabeth Stone summed it up perfectly when she said, “Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body."

 When Punkin was 3 years old, I told my husband (the Kabyle Chef), "I think we need to have another child. If something happens to this one, I could never survive it."  The Kabyle Chef agreed with me almost immediately. Ok, ALMOST.  There is another part to this conversation; I also said, "They say you have one good one and one bad one."

The Chef's response was, "OMG. What if she IS the good one????"

Punkin at 3 years old.  Just kidding. It's a statue of Regan from The Exorcist.

Regardless, because I am neurotic, I have had nightmares about something terrible happening to one or both of my kids. It is the absolute worst thing to happen to a parent. So, that is why my first thought was for Taylor's parents.

My second thought was a jumble. As you may have read, the running community lost another great member in March: Steve Pierce. Click here to read my tribute to my friend.

Both deaths have hit me hard because they happened so close together and because they are SUCH A GODDAMNED INJUSTICE.  It isn't fair.  Steve's death made me angry and afraid, and Taylor's death has magnified that fear. With Steve's death, I had an existential midlife crisis that I thought I had scheduled for myself when I turned forty: What if I die? What is death? Is there an afterlife? All of these questions have tormented me since we lost him. When we lost Taylor, I had greater fears: What if my kids die? How will I go on?

Today, as I ran with a friend, she talked about the Greater Purpose behind death, specifically deaths that we feel happened too soon. I said that while I respect the beliefs of those who cling to the Greater Purpose, I do not believe that there is any purpose to an untimely death. It's wrong. Steve's death was wrong. Taylor's death was wrong. It's not fair. Screw this.

So, what do I take from this? There is no good from the deaths of two people who left suddenly and too soon.  There is no lesson; there is only the reaction.  I can't always control the circumstances of my life, but I can control how I react to them.

When I fear death, mine or someone else's:

I must remember to fiercely love my children, even. . .ESPECIALLY when they are unlovable. I must hug them and hold them and kiss them and remind them that I NEED  them.

I must look to my community and my friends, and I must remind them that I value them and I love them. . .because I may not always have them. This is not easy for me because, well, I'm sort of prickly.  That is my reaction, and I need to change it. My friends deserve more from me.

I must remember that everyone around me has a story and a history. We are all dealing with shit and a struggle, and my job is to find a better reaction to their struggles.

My favorite novel in the whole world is To Kill a Mockingbird, and I am lucky to be able to finish every school year with it in my Sophomore Language Arts class.  Atticus Finch, the best role model for a parent and leader that I can ever imagine, said, “You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view … until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.” 

Gregory Peck as Atticus Finch

I can look at my world with more empathy because frankly, I don't know how much longer I or those I love will remain in it.   

I can choose to be angry, or I can choose to love. Actually, I choose both. 

As you can tell, this is a rambling way for me to square my thoughts. I have no answers or assurance. 

I will run away from my troubles, as I have always done. This time, though, I will recognize the journey and friendship of those who run with me and around me.

I love you, Peeps. Run happy.


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