The Circle Continues
http://www.pwjournal.com/articles/35/1/The-Circle-Continues/Page1.html
Marcella Bossow Schankweiler
Marcella Bossow Schankweiler is currently President and founder of Crossing the Finish Line (CFL), a nonprofit cancer organization started by Marci and her late husband, Peter R. Bossow, in 1999. In her tenure as director, Marci, with her team of employees, volunteers and colleagues, has solicited funds to support the organization’s goal – providing respite excursions to young adult cancer patients and their caregivers.Marci’s philosophy in life is summed up by the words she inscribed on her past husband’s wedding ring, Carpe Diem. She enjoys laughter and love with her second husband, Mark, and her two young children, Maura and Rose. She resides in North Wales, PA.
By Marcella Bossow Schankweiler
Published on 03/31/2008
I woke up from surgery not knowing what happened, not knowing if the life was saved, not knowing about my body, my baby, my family to be. I understood the circle of life and how quickly the ring could be disrupted, crumpled, ruined.
We lost the heartbeat. Lights brightened, instruments clattered and doctors scrambled to save the life inside my belly. Anesthesia administered and then my mind went blank. Dark. Quiet. Peaceful. Thus began the birth of my first child, Maura, born during a failed aversion. I woke up from surgery not knowing what happened, not knowing if the life was saved, not knowing about my body, my baby, my family to be. I understood the circle of life and how quickly the ring could be disrupted, crumpled, ruined.
Four years prior, my ring was shattered when I said goodbye to my first husband, Peter, after his thirteen month battle with cancer. We were in love – high school sweethearts that enjoyed wonderful courting memories, from the senior prom to the college formals, donuts and beach walks in Sea Isle City, New Jersey, and heavenly bliss in our marriage. One day, our youthful innocence was stolen from us. The doctor called and wants to see you in his office immediately. You have a tumor. Germ Cell. Oh, I presume you take an antibiotic and the germ dies. No, you may die. Your prognosis is poor. Words I will always remember; words that would shape the remainder of our lives together. Let’s live life to the fullest because our circle is crumbling. Let’s celebrate with love and laughter like this day is the last!
A party. A beef and beer to be exact. Our friends celebrated Pete’s life, reaching out to him in his loneliness, and presented us a check for over $10,000. A MAC card to be more accurate; a card that would follow us as we took this generous gift and traveled for nearly three weeks to the Caribbean after Pete’s chemotherapy and surgery. A honeymoon that was more than any romantic getaway – some time to enjoy what defined our relationship – our unconditional love. This same bond occurs between a mother and child – unconditional love.
I awoke after surgery. Has the circle of life continued in the birth of my child? Our child – my second husband, Mark, with whom I realized that there is always capacity to love again. Love sustains all. Love is also painful. Pete’s cancer returns, metastatic, in his bones, his spine, his blood. The end is near. “Marci, I am crossing the finish line, just more prematurely than most. I do not want to die in vain. Let us help others who are lonely in their journey with cancer. Let us share the joy we experienced on our Caribbean trip. Let us give them something to look forward to after battling the unyielding physical and emotional demands of cancer. Let us give them a break for crossing the finish line – give them hope that what truly defines the circle of life is love,” he says with a smile. Cancer tries to shatter the ring, but I learn that love does not die. The circle continues!
My baby is born. We name her Maura. She is healthy, alive and becomes part of our circle. She is my steadfast companion at the office of Crossing the Finish Line. The office that has helped hundreds create memories of a lifetime. An organization that ensures families recognize that it is their priceless love that completes the circle, not the cancer that has dulled the finish.
This Mother’s Day I embrace my little miracle Maura, her younger sister, Rose, and my loving husband Mark. The Circle continues, polished by the love of memories with Pete and so many young adult cancer patients that have crossed the finish line. Happy Mother’s Day. May love always polish your own Circle!
Four years prior, my ring was shattered when I said goodbye to my first husband, Peter, after his thirteen month battle with cancer. We were in love – high school sweethearts that enjoyed wonderful courting memories, from the senior prom to the college formals, donuts and beach walks in Sea Isle City, New Jersey, and heavenly bliss in our marriage. One day, our youthful innocence was stolen from us. The doctor called and wants to see you in his office immediately. You have a tumor. Germ Cell. Oh, I presume you take an antibiotic and the germ dies. No, you may die. Your prognosis is poor. Words I will always remember; words that would shape the remainder of our lives together. Let’s live life to the fullest because our circle is crumbling. Let’s celebrate with love and laughter like this day is the last!
A party. A beef and beer to be exact. Our friends celebrated Pete’s life, reaching out to him in his loneliness, and presented us a check for over $10,000. A MAC card to be more accurate; a card that would follow us as we took this generous gift and traveled for nearly three weeks to the Caribbean after Pete’s chemotherapy and surgery. A honeymoon that was more than any romantic getaway – some time to enjoy what defined our relationship – our unconditional love. This same bond occurs between a mother and child – unconditional love.
I awoke after surgery. Has the circle of life continued in the birth of my child? Our child – my second husband, Mark, with whom I realized that there is always capacity to love again. Love sustains all. Love is also painful. Pete’s cancer returns, metastatic, in his bones, his spine, his blood. The end is near. “Marci, I am crossing the finish line, just more prematurely than most. I do not want to die in vain. Let us help others who are lonely in their journey with cancer. Let us share the joy we experienced on our Caribbean trip. Let us give them something to look forward to after battling the unyielding physical and emotional demands of cancer. Let us give them a break for crossing the finish line – give them hope that what truly defines the circle of life is love,” he says with a smile. Cancer tries to shatter the ring, but I learn that love does not die. The circle continues! My baby is born. We name her Maura. She is healthy, alive and becomes part of our circle. She is my steadfast companion at the office of Crossing the Finish Line. The office that has helped hundreds create memories of a lifetime. An organization that ensures families recognize that it is their priceless love that completes the circle, not the cancer that has dulled the finish.
This Mother’s Day I embrace my little miracle Maura, her younger sister, Rose, and my loving husband Mark. The Circle continues, polished by the love of memories with Pete and so many young adult cancer patients that have crossed the finish line. Happy Mother’s Day. May love always polish your own Circle!