Barbara Ann Throop
1951 to 1985
On an innocent Sunday morning in September of 1984, my mother sat her three young sons down to explain to them that she had just been informed she had cancer. Matt was twelve years old at the time, I was just turning nine, and Ryan was seven. In a discussion that lasted well over an hour, she explained to us that the disease was life-threatening, and that she would soon be undergoing treatments to attempt to rid herself of this cancer.
A bone cancer originating in her hip, the cancer had already spread throughout her body by the time it was detected. Mom was given a grim prognosis: that she may not even live past the end of the year. Nonetheless, she decided to face it and fight it. She read and researched widely, radically transformed her diet, and by the end of October, she and Dad were on a plane to Mexico, seeking alternative treatments. My young brothers and I watched as she was taken into the airplane on a wheelchair.
They returned three weeks later from Mexico, and Mom was skipping off the airplane! Going to Mexico for treatment had really helped her! Six weeks later, in January of 1985, her doctor had told her that in examining her, he could no longer even find her tumor. Mom was radiant with happiness, filled with hope, and continued with her normal life – even returning to her administrative job at the local power company.
Within three months, however, the cancer had returned. This time, it brought a far more formidable battle, one which Mom ultimately would not overcome. By the end of April, Mom was completely bedridden. By the end of May, she had lost consciousness. Her body continued to wither away through the early days of June, and she even awoke once, on June 12, to briefly talk to us all again. She was surprised to hear that we were back in our Vancouver home, as she thought we had all just traveled around the world. Apparently, through her comatose state, many of her life’s dreams were finally coming true.
Christmas 1984
Extended relatives, family and friends, were constantly present at our house through the final weeks of her life. Toward the end, Matt came to understand that Mom would not be making it. Ryan and I, however, were too young to comprehend this. We’d seen her get really sick the previous fall, and then recover. We felt this was simply happening again. Death was out of the question. Sure-she’d never been this sick-but she would still recover. It came as a complete shock when, on the warm evening of June 18, 1985, the three of us were rushed upstairs to a master bedroom full of distraught family members, where our tearful father was awaiting on his knees, by the bedside of my mother, to reveal to us that, “Boys, your mother has just gone to see Jesus…”
Thank goodness for having such a wonderful father. With an abundance of love and strength, Dad carried on and raised the three of us into adulthood.
Though I was always well aware of how our story differed from that of pretty much every other kid, whose parents were both still alive, it took me till adulthood to get a better idea of the impact of growing up without Mom. Mom & Dad had skills and strengths that complemented one another’s very well. Mom was a very adept communicator, and it wasn’t until I reached adulthood that I really began to perceive the impact of all the lost guidance from her we would have received, and conversations we would have had as I grew up – as well as on into adulthood.
My life has been taking some rather funny and very fortunate turns in recent years, as I learn more and more to develop my own personal ability to listen to the calling of my intuition.
Matt’s Graduation
In December of 2008, just as I had booked a flight to go perform weeks of volunteer work in Mexico, it immediately hit me that in September of 2009, I would take a long Walk of Inspiration-that I’ll walk thousands of miles over the course of several months, across the entire United States. I’ll take countless steps across America to inspire my fellow beloved Americans to take steps of positive change in their lives.
Since the majority of cancer deaths are preventable, this means that millions of Americans have died of cancer unnecessarily in recent years. Millions have died unnecessarily since my mother’s 1985 death from cancer.
We can take many steps in our daily lives toward preventing the risk of deadly cancers. Among these steps, finding time for quality daily exercise is huge. So, my mission has been to cross America on my own two feet, walking countless miles from the Pacific to the Atlantic – in the hopes of inspiring you to GO TAKE A WALK TODAY!
You’ll be happy when you take steps forward for yourself, and by taking positive steps to prevent cancer, you’ll be rewarded to learn that these very same steps also decrease your risk of other debilitating and deadly diseases. Such exercise strengthens your body, and establishes great momentum into wonderful changes awaiting you as you continue your experience of life here on earth…
Best Wishes Always…
George Throop
