Mom, I love you...

I wish I could talk to my mom right now.  It's 1 a.m. on Thursday night (or I guess Friday morning), and I am in Port Au Prince, Haiti.  My mind is spinning right now.  I think that I am going to start at the end of my day and go to back to the beginning.  I've probably already confused you and I'm only five sentences in.  Regardless, here it goes.  At about 7:45 p.m. tonight I was told to sit down and handed a cell phone.  I was immediately worried, but figured it was a solvable problem, something Haiti related.  As I put the phone up to my ear, I heard my mom's voice, "Sarah?"  "Mom?" I said, absolutely shocked to hear her specifically.  My heart sank.  I have been through a lot of tragedy in my lifetime.  Unfortunately enough so that I know every tone of my mother's voice and how serious things are by those tones.  In the next two seconds before she started explaining why she was calling Haiti, a million scenarios ran through my head.  Is something wrong with her?  My grandma?  My brother?  My dad? The list goes on.  "Honey, I'm sorry to have to call you and this is going to come as a shock to you," she explained that my cousin had died unexpectedly.  And shocked was an understatement.  My cousin, Tara, was much older than me but far too young to be taken from this world (in her 40's).  Her daughter, Jenna, is a couple years younger than I am.  We were extremely close growing up even though they lived in Ohio.  I took my first flight alone in 5th grade to go out and visit Jenna, and I paid for it myself!  I am devastated over the loss of Tara.  And I can't even begin to wrap my heart and mind around what Jenna and my aunt and uncle are going through right now.  Over the last several months, after a few losses very close to my heart due to illness, I've often contemplated whether it's better to suffer and know that your time on Earth will be cut short, or if it's better to not know it's coming.  I don't know the answer.

It's is now Friday night, and I am reflecting more and more on things that crossed my path yesterday.  For those of you that don't know, this is my second trip to Haiti.  My first trip was in February and I am back again, as a leader this time.  On Thursday, I went to the Wound Clinic in San Fil with the sisters (nuns) from the home for the sick and dying children.  Three times a week the sisters give free medical care to anyone that needs a bandage changed, medication for pain, or small procedures that they can do on site.    Myself, Dan, and Eric all volunteered to go help at the Wound Clinic, it's definitely not for those with sensitive stomachs.  We took the small white van from the home for the sick and dying children along with about 5 sisters and 3 other missionaries.  The ride to our destination was absolute craziness.  We went down the main market street, the span of probably a half mile must have taken us at least a half an hour.  I've never seen so many people on one street before.  We found ourselves head on with another truck coming from the opposite direction several times with no where to go.  I honestly don't know how we made it through.  The sisters were praying their Hail Mary's and Our Father's and I as well was praising God that I had Eric and Dan with me.  We finally got to our destination.

I knew that I was going to be seeing open wounds but I couldn't have prepared myself for what I saw.  Thursday is their slow day, and there was probably around 50 people needing major medical attention.  Eric and I worked as a team, cleaning out wounds and replacing bandages.  The wounds, they would take your breath away.  Some of them were so deep you could almost see bone.  And the majority were very large, about the size of a very large man's hand.  They were pure, raw, open flesh.  The first man we worked on had an extremely swollen calf, and foot and a very large open wound.  The sister said that the wound was due to bad circulation.  It was very sad, because they said that the wound will likely never heal.  We saw a lot of people in similar situations, people of all ages.  It was heartbreaking.

At the Wound Clinic in San Fil

But after the line was done there was still a woman on the operation table in the clinic.  Half of her breast was missing.  Again, it was pure, raw, open flesh.  The sister spent a long time cleaning and re-bandaging her.  She received some pain medication and was on her way.  I asked the sister after she left what the wound was from.  She said that it was breast cancer.  She said that the cancer was eating away at her breast but there wasn't much they could do for her.  I sat stunned.  I can't even imagine what it must be like for that woman.  Knowing that a cancer is attacking her body and there was nothing she could do about it.  It really made me think a lot about my mom, and how blessed we are that she has the option to fight this.  Even though we all complain about our healthcare and insurance companies in the United States we are so much better off than most.  It's not that I didn't know that, but it really hits home when you see it first hand.  People in Haiti get breast cancer.  That thought never really crossed my mind.  When I decided to do the Susan G. Komen 3-Day for the Cure I starting doing a lot of research on the organization.  It is incredible what they have accomplished over the last 29 years.  I think the thing that amazes me the most is that so many advances have been made in breast cancer because of people with generous hearts.  Because some people believe that their small donation can make a difference, will make a difference, and want to make a difference.  In addition to funding research and outreach projects domestically, Komen has provided more than $27 million in funding for international breast cancer research and more than $17 million for international community education and outreach programs.  It feels so good to help in a very small way.  It reminds me of one of my favorite quotes by Mother Teresa, "If you can't feed a hundred, feed one."  None of us are going to change the world entirely on our own, but if we all do a little and chip away at it, we WILL make a difference.


Tomorrow is my last day in Haiti.  I will be flying to Miami on Monday morning and driving to Jensen Beach in Florida where my Aunt and Uncle live.  My cousin Jenna wrote on her Facebook wall after she found out that her mom had passed away, "Everyone I know....call your mothers and tell them you love them."  I did get to talk to my mom over the phone on Friday before her chemotherapy, and tell her how much I love her, which is such a blessing.  The first thing I will do when I get into the United States is turn on my phone and call my mom....and of course, tell her I love her.

PLEASE CONSIDER DONATING to the Susan G. Komen 3-Day for the Cure.  I will be walking 60 miles in 3 days in honor of my mom, my grandma, my cousin, and all the people of this world that are fighting this awful disease.


www.the3day.org/goto/sarahfrakes <----CLICK TO DONATE


GOD BLESS!
Sarah