Baby Christopher and his mother

People run for many reasons. (For instance, I run when chased.) While it’s not for anyone else to judge what gets a tired body through the wall, over the last hill, and past the finish line; the reasons for running, working, giving of oneself can sometimes be more compelling than the actual finish. Take Chris Cleary, for instance.

Christopher was only 9-years-old when his mother died. I knew him for years in that casual acquaintance way – the kind of relationship where you say hi, ask about each other’s winter, maybe share a toast. You know the kind. So I never knew about his mom, or how big of a role her death had played in making him the person he is, until one night last winter.

Sitting at the local winter watering hole, Chris mentioned I should do a story on him.

Really? I said, and I was laughing, because I naturally expected a joke to come next. Meeting up at one of the few open places in winter is a great way to plan your season, find out what’s happening in terms of jobs, new openings, and big changes, and hear a lot of jokes. It’s also the only way to stay sane when the February doldrums hit, and you can watch tumbleweeds roll down the beaches.

There was a crowd huddled in front of the fireplace when Chris said he was going to run a race this spring. A marathon? No, a 5K. In Cape May County? No, in Philadelphia. Well, quite frankly, Chris – it doesn’t sound like anything I could report on. He nodded. He went outside to check the sound of crashing waves (and see if anyone’s car was underwater yet) and I followed him out. I felt bad, but let’s face it: this is a Cape May County newspaper, and my hands are a bit tied in terms of relevance. And then he told me about his mom.

Patricia Ann Jane (Fields) Cleary was a pretty little girl in Philadelphia who grew up into a beautiful (judging by Chris’ pictures) woman. She married John Cleary and they had a baby boy. In what must be one of the crueler twists of irony, John had been married before… to a woman who died of cancer. John’s first wife Caroline had been diagnosed at the age of 36: one year later, in 1970, she was gone. Patricia Cleary was diagnosed at the age of 36: 2 years later, when her son Christopher was 9, she passed on March 27, 1981.

This is not to try and turn this story into a maudlin three-hanky Lifetime movie, but to suggest one small point. I have always joked that I only run when chased. How many loved ones would have to be ripped from your life before you began to feel like something was chasing your happiness down? How long would little 9-year-old Chris, left with his grieving father and three grieving brothers, admittedly too young to fully understand what had happened, have lived in fear wondering just how one can possibly defend oneself from such unbelievable bad luck?

As he said to me that night; it’s 27 years. The years have passed, and Chris has grown, and now he’s ready to fight back. Even if it’s only in 5K installments at first, even if running doesn’t seem like the most logical reaction to grief (and he is still grieving) and even if by now most people don’t think there’s anything to be gained by reopening an old wound. Chris is going to run for his mother. He never got the chance to do much else for her, since they were both so young when she died, so on this Mother’s Day Chris will run for his mother.

And a lot of other people’s mothers, too.

Because you see, Chris set a goal of raising $5,000 for the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer “Race for the Cure” in addition to just running the length of the race. As of this printing, he is already at 84% of his goal. The money he, and others like him, raise will go to research, organizations dedicated to making affordable care available, hospice care, help for male caretakers, and so much more. You can check out Christopher’s site at http://rfcphl.convio.net/site/TR/Race/General?px=1338781&pg=personal&fr_...

For more information about the race, and the organization, go to http://www.komen.org" title="www.komen.orag">www.komen.orag, or check out how the Philadelphia race is going at http://rfcphl.convio.net/site/TR?fr_id=1020&pg=entry.

There are many ways to help, so please get involved!
In my humble opinion, this is a much better present than an orchid and a brunch – and it can help save all moms, everywhere. Please keep Chris in your thoughts as he prepares over the next few weeks, and think about helping out yourself if you can. We’d love to hear your comments, especially if you have any encouragement for Christopher.

Chris emailed me a few thoughts before we went to print: “I guess the only thing I can think of off hand is to add my ties to the Chalfonte hotel...people may then make the connection of who I am. I came to the Chalfonte in July 2005 thanks to Nancy Granick (the general manager) to be the sous chef when they were short handed. It was supposed to be only that summer.

"Now I am going to be the kitchen manager/head chef going on my third season. It is kind of fitting since my dad met my mother in Wildwood back in the 70's where she spent the summers away from teaching in Philadelphia. And they spent a lot of time in Cape May - I did not know that until I moved down here in 2005, and my dad flooded me with pictures.”

Chris’ dad also sent his son, upon hearing of his plans to run the Komen, a detailed description of Patricia’s last days: starting with the night she discovered the lump straight through the end, two years later, when chemotherapy failed to keep the cancer from reaching her bones after a radical mastectomy. This letter, which Christopher shared with me, reads like a primer on how to honor and love while in sickness.

“To make myself useful, I cleaned her room, mopped the floors, and even changed her bandages during her stay. Initially she did not want me to look or get involved with the surgical incision site (she said it was too ugly to look at), but I told her it didn't bother me at all and it didn't affect how I felt about her. Once I told her that, she felt more comfortable letting me help her with the dressings,” wrote John. “She had some radiation in addition to the chemotherapy, and all in all she tolerated it very well (it wasn't anything like what Aunt Rose went through). After her radiation, chemotherapy treatments ended, she felt she had won the battle (or at least forestalled it). I believe it was about June of 1980, and she was prepared to move on at this stage. Unfortunately (I think it was August of 1980), she came home from a follow-up visit with her doctor that we got some bad news. The cancer had spread to the bone. I was home when she pulled into the driveway and I was looking out the window as she got out of her car. I could tell she was upset, and had been crying.”

“The chemotherapy was resumed in September, but she began to gradually feel the effects of the disease. We had what I would categorize as a fairly normal Thanksgiving, and even Christmas (we went by Aunt Rita's for those holidays). She got through February and your birthday with little difficulty, and Aunt Pat (Uncle Billy's wife) and your mother took you to a roller skating rink with some of your friends to celebrate your birthday. At this time your mother was wearing a neck brace (a soft collar) to ease the pain. Shortly after your birthday, she was for all practical purposes bed ridden.

“On Friday, March 27, 1981, shortly after mid-day (12:15 PM), your mother passed away peacefully in bed at home. She was 38 years old. I happened to be in my office in Willowbrook that day (and not in New York with clients where I normally would be), and I rushed home to be with her. The wake was held at the DeLuccia Funeral Home, Paterson, over the weekend and the Requiem Mass was held on Monday at St. Paul's Church, Prospect Park (where you were Baptized), and she was buried in Holy Sepulcher Cemetery, Totowa, afterwards. Ironically, she is buried in the same row as Uncle Frank and Aunt Angie (but at the other end). I think she would like that since we were very close to them.

“It's been 26 years 11 months and 18 days since she died, and I think of her all the time (as I know you do as well). This is the first time I've taken the time to recount this to anyone, so you might consider keeping this even if you don't use it for your 5K run fund raiser. Remember, drive carefully when you come North tomorrow. OK?”

Okay, NOW it’s a definite three hanky article. But here’s the silver lining: Christopher’s fundraising letter:
“Dear Friends and Family,

“I recently accepted a challenge to raise funds to support the Susan G. Komen Philadelphia Race for the Cure in the fight against breast cancer. One in eight women will be stricken with breast cancer in her lifetime. The more funds that we can raise, the more the Susan G. Komen for the Cure can give to fund crucial breast cancer education, screening, and treatment programs in our own community and to support the national search for a cure.
“It is difficult to believe that on March 27th, it will be exactly 27 years that my mother, Patricia Ann Jane (Fields) Cleary lost her battle to breast cancer. However, if I stop to think about her I find myself having a hard time even forming the next word in this letter. If I blink for a minute, I find myself back in time to a just-turned 9 year old adrift in a sea of unanswered questions.
“Over the years, I have stayed afloat by clinging to brief memories, beautiful photographs, and kind words about her from my family. Do I have all the answers today? No, I do not, but I honestly think the scientific advances, the screening, and the treatment options available today, would have afforded her a much better chance of surviving breast cancer.
“I will run a 5K race in memory of her on Mother's Day, May 11 2008. If the money I raise with all of your help can go towards saving one family from losing their mother, there are no words to express how rewarding that would be. With the great support from family and friends, I hope this is only the first of many races to come.
“It is simple to donate online by clicking onto my personal home page on Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure web-site below, or you can send a check or money order (no cash please) to the address below and it will be sent into the foundation. Please feel free to check back to my personal web page to see donation totals, updates on my race to reach my goal of $5000.00(+) for Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure before Mother's Day, and feel free to forward this E-mail to others who may like to join in my effort.
“Thank you so much for your time and support.
“Sincerely,
Christopher Michael Cleary”