Always in Your Corner

I come to you tonight with a heavy heart and a mind full of thoughts that I can't quite organize, so forgive these words if they don't come together the way they should.

By now I'm sure you've seen the TV reports or read the headlines with some variation of these three words that made me lose my breath for a moment today:

Patrick. Swayze. Cancer.

I know what you're thinking, and it's okay because I'm thinking it too. How could she be so thrown by a piece of news about a person she doesn't even know? A piece of news that, let's be honest here, will probably be forgotten in a few short weeks to come. Not by me though. When the stories stop rolling and the headlines change, I'll remember this day and how it made me different somehow.

It started when I was about eight years old. I idolized my sister, and I wanted to like everything she liked. My parents were always open about us seeing "grown-up" movies; so at the behest of my teenage sister, we planned an entire Friday night around the first family viewing of Dirty Dancing on VHS. She had seen it before, and assured us all we would love it. I remember the details of that evening quite vividly. There was shrimp cocktail with cream-cheese, barbeque meatballs, and the four of us. A better Friday night I couldn't imagine. I'll never forget my dad, yes my dad, rewinding the final dance scene three times because he thought it was so great. As for me, something else took over and I was literally in a daze. For many Fridays following this one, the first words out of my mouth at the end of the school day were, "Can we go to StarLand and rent Dirty Dancing again?" These were the days before each bedroom had its own entertainment system, and before VHS tapes were cheap enough to buy the day they were released. Our movie-watching was one-for-all and all-for-one. My parents were sweet enough to indulge in this all too frequent request...most of the time. I remember the first time my request was denied; I spent the evening crying in my room.

I can't articulate why or how this spark was ignited. I don't understand it, even now. I suppose it started as a purely physical response to him, but it grew into something different. I just know he's been an unwitting participant in many of these moments in my life. Moments filled with laughter and shared with the people I love most. Moments when a bad day has been turned around by seeing his face on my TV screen. Moments spent revisiting each picture and article that's been lovingly collected through the years. It sounds crazy, I know; but when you invite someone in like that, even a stranger, they become woven into the fabric of you.

Call it devotion, or call it obsession, my fondness for him has been unwavering. I have seen each film, listened to each song (there is more than one), and read each article. I have always believed in his talent and his goodness. What I find most endearing about him, though, is how much he loves his wife. Thirty-two years they've been married, and he still goes out of his way to talk about how great she is. I think that's pretty amazing. I am feeling for her tonight.

I don't even know how to end this. I feel like I could go on and on, but I'm not going to. Not now. I don't want to think about the statistics or all the speculation. I just want to hold on tight to all the happy moments he doesn't even know he's given me. I'm sending my prayers, and hopefully you will do the same.

Stay strong, Buddy! God bless!