Sister Act VII

There are some sights that just can’t help but put springtime on your mind. Buds aching with blossom, lambs frolicking in the sunshine, Fiona in bright pink warpaint.

*record scratch*

Well, would you look at that! That’s right folks, the other signs of springtime may be lagging behind but the Sister Act Race for Life team are right on schedule, ready to kick cancer’s ass and clog up your Facebook feeds until you give us some money.

Donate here.

This will be our team’s seventh Race for Life season, and it’s going to be a big one. If you’ve been here through all seven years, you might want to go stick the kettle on and catch us in a couple of paragraphs. If you’re joining us for the first time, welcome to the party! Grab a french martini and settle yourself down on the cushions with us. Come on, scootch in closer, we’re all friends here. Alright, good. As always, our story starts with this cracker:

When I was fifteen and my sister Sophie was just eleven, our mum was diagnosed with cervical cancer. This was, and remains, one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to live through. Anyone who knows Sophie or me will know that our mum is the biggest and most important person in our lives. From her top notch dancing skills to her fondness for needlessly extravagant party organisation and her ever excellent advice, the loss of our mum would have left a hole in both of us that nothing could ever fill. And the world would have been deprived of the greatest strawberry daiquiri mixologist it has ever produced.

Luckily for all of us, my mum beat cancer with great style and aplomb and now spends her time cruising around the Caribbean, applauding in the cinema at Zac Efron movies and forgetting to buy her daughters birthday cakes. Truly, she is the greatest.

And in fact (if you checked out of the story because you’ve heard it seven times and it’s boring the arse off you at this point, now is the time to check back in), even though we run the Race in her honour every year, she is one of the reasons that this year’s race will be so special.

*pause for dramatic effect*

This year, my mum will be celebrating TEN. YEARS. CLEAR. How good is that? Ten whole years. Make no mistake, this is happening because of organisations like Cancer Research and I plan to celebrate by raising a great, huge chunk of cash for them.

Donate here.

An artist’s impression of me arriving at Cancer Research HQ:

There is another reason that this year’s Race for Life will be a special one, and it’s a reason I wish we didn’t have.

Every year, our team has grown bigger as Sophie and I rope in more and more family members. But as I was looking back through my old Race for Life stuff, I noticed that something else gets bigger every year too.

Every year, we have more people on our back signs.

Every year, we have more people to race for, who are fighting cancer, or who cancer has taken from us. And this year, we are making an addition that has broken all of our hearts.

This year, we lost a grandparent. Liam, my stepmum’s dad, my baby sister’s popsie, passed away in October. My words aren’t enough to tell you what a loss this was for us, what warmth and joy and sweetness he brought to all of our lives.

We’ve had so many moments of joy in the seven years that the Sister Act team has existed, but cancer keeps taking people from us. We’re not going to stop until cancer does.

Join our fight. Donate.

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