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| My Mom, Liz. |
My mother was a brainwasher.
She had a way of convincing us 7 kids to do things we had no desire to ever
do. Often the very things we were downright scared to do, would much rather avoid doing.
And she had a mantra. All good brainwashers must. It was a phrase she would constantly repeat
throughout my formative years as it accompanied her mission to lure us to follow
her like little lemmings to the cliff.
“C’mon.”
She would say. “It’ll be fun!”
It will be fun?
Yep. Fun. Everything was going to be fun. Snow skiing though you’re deathly afraid of
heights? C’mon. It’ll be fun. Driving 20 hours to visit family across the
country? C’mon. It’ll be fun.
Speaking in front of 300 people?
C’mon. It’ll be fun. Root canal?
C’mon. It’ll be fun.
And we fell for it.
Time and time again. {Now that I
think about it, we may not have been all that bright}. And though she repeated this often, it was
really her level of unbridled enthusiasm that truly got us. You see, it wasn’t that mom just said it would be fun, she genuinely believed it would fun. She was up for the adventure, found joy in
the challenge, and relished the road to get there. She truly understood the meaning of enjoying
the journey, making the best of the worst situations, and finding reasons to be
positive.
So when she was diagnosed with a deadly form of cancer, a roller
coaster that is decidedly UN-fun, she
met the test with an optimism that only Liz could have. {Did I mention she loved a good roller
coaster?}
Surgery? Let’s befriend
that surly German surgeon who never cracks a smile. Shingles?
Let’s name a gift shop stuffed animal after this little hospital inconvenience
and laugh about it. Chemo? Let’s all go together and have a little mini-party. I’ll make the t-shirts.
I’m not sure I would describe those two years of our lives
as “fun”, but it wasn’t a chore either.
We spent a lot of time together, we cried as a group, we laughed a LOT
(sometimes in lieu of tears) and we had no regrets. There was joy in that journey.
My mom lost her battle with cancer seven years ago
today. I was there by her side as she
ended that adventure and left us to find our own. And so we did. We’ve all gone out into the world without her
physical presence, but with her voice resonating in our heads.
And today, exactly seven years later, I find myself officially the sole candidate for Marion County District Attorney.
A journey that has taken me twenty years of a career and a whole lot of
challenges. It’s a job that is never easy,
usually complicated, and quite often punctuated by tragedy. But I truly love this work. I love it because in the pursuit of the right
thing, there are always reasons to be positive.
I love it because it is impossible to do this job without seeing the good
that follows the bad and the ups that follow the downs.
So it’s definitely a roller coaster. But I’ve been on one of those before. And Mom would think we should ride it over
and over. And I’d have to agree. Because, well, you know….It’ll be fun.
This Fun Campaign Adventure
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