- 2002 Chicago Avon Breast Cancer 3-Day Walk
Saturday - Night 2 Camp
I was honored to speak at the dinner tent at camp the second night of the Chicago Avon Breast Cancer 3-Day walk. Two women spoke just before me - one a breast cancer survivor, the other her sister. They had also lost their father to breast cancer. Debbi and Shelly are amazing women, and I've been fortunate to cross paths with them several times since that night. At the end of the speech text is a link to hear audio of the speech.
- Wendy's Eulogy
Wendy and I were a team, and she allowed me to take care of her during her battle as best I could. Giving her eulogy was one more way that I needed to take care of her as she deserved to be cared for.
Speech Texts
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2002 Chicago Avon Breast Cancer 3-Day Walk
Saturday - Night 2 Camp
I wish that I could be here tonight telling you a fairy tale, a triumphant story with a happy ending. Instead, I'm going to tell you one about determination, dedication and inspiration.
One year ago, who would have thought that the world would look the way it does today? Events far from us, and events very close to home, have made each and every one of us pause. We have reflected on life and on death. We have looked at those things that mean the most to us from new perspectives. We have reprioritized our lives.
My name is Lyle Deckowitz. This is my third Avon Breast Cancer 3 Day walk. Four months from now, I'll be joining another group of 3 Day walkers in New York City. In order to understand why I'm standing before you tonight, you must meet my fiancée, Wendy Larks.
Wendy was a person that everyone should have had the privilege to meet. Wendy loved life. While training for our first 3 Day walk, she would talk about the incredible joy she received from seeing a father and son toss a ball between them at the side of the trail. She talked about the energy she received from walking through the forest preserves, bathing in the sunshine, inhaling the wonderful odors of the flowers, grass and trees. Wendy had an enthusiasm, a passion for life that she shared with everyone she met. She made an immediate, intense impression on every life that touched hers; people couldn't help but walk away better for the meeting. Wendy had an infectious laugh that made us want to laugh right along with her. Her positive attitude lifted our spirits, and her smile brightened our world.
Wendy Larks was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1996, at the age of 30. She did not let this end her life. She fought her alien into remission, working as a massage therapist, then as a flight attendant. She worked through chemotherapy, and through surgery. She refused to let the cancer destroy her. Wendy shared her story with her friends, co-workers, and any unsuspecting strangers who happened to cross her path. She dedicated herself to spreading the message: early detection of breast cancer is one of the keys to survival. Early Detection Saves Lives!
Wendy and I participated in our first 3 Day walk in 2000. We read the handouts just like everyone else had. The money that we raised supported research, provided education and services for under-privileged women and men. For Wendy and I, the event was about so much more than money. The 3 Day changed our lives. It challenged us, it motivated us, and it inspired us. The 3 Day showed us that we could make a difference, that through our efforts, someone else might not have to fight the battle that Wendy had waged. Some woman might listen to us tell Wendy's story, realize that no one is too young to get breast cancer, go home, perform a self-exam, and maybe detect something before it was too late to do anything about it. The 3 Day empowered us to change someone's life. There was no question we would walk again.
In October 2000, almost 5 years after her initial diagnosis, metastasized breast cancer was found in Wendy's liver. We were stunned, and we were angry. But Wendy was determined not to give up without a fight. We committed ourselves once again to educate those around us, to raise awareness of the importance of taking control of one's own health, the importance of not relying on others to notice changes in your body. And Wendy rededicated herself to beating the alien within.
Seven months and several chemo drugs later, the tumors were still growing. Wendy checked into the hospital with suffocating pressure from fluid around her lungs. A tube was inserted in her chest to drain the fluid. Ten days later, they removed the tube, sent Wendy home, but the fluid was still being produced, and was now coming from the opening in her chest. We changed bandages several times a day, and questioned whether participating in the 3 Day walk would be in Wendy's best interest. When she received a phone call from the 3 Day staff inviting her to participate in the Survivor's Circle, the question was answered.
Wendy was not strong enough to walk on her own, so we borrowed a wheelchair from the hospital and steeled ourselves for the challenge ahead. Wendy's wound was still seeping. I had been focused on her health, and had trained for a total of one hour. But on the 3 Day, there is no whining.
Wendy walked as a part of the Survivor's Circle, then sat down for most of the rest of the journey. Those of you that walked last year may remember the smiles you saw on her face. She had a gleam in her eye that we seldom saw during those few months. Many people stopped us to tell Wendy that she was the reason they were walking, that in her incredible strength they found their inspiration. I'm here tonight to tell you that YOU were the reason for those smiles. Your spirit. Your determination. Your kindness.
My sister and I pushed Wendy in the wheelchair for over 40 miles, but we did not do it alone. The kindness of the strangers that stopped and offered to help us push Wendy propelled us through the miles. The selfless acts of strangers toward one another gave us the motivation and the determination to continue on. The Avon Breast Cancer 3 Day raises money, yes, but it is about so much more. It's about inspiration. Inspiring each of us to do, and to be, our very best. To live each day to the fullest extent possible, knowing that tomorrow is promised to no one…
The Avon Breast Cancer 3 Day has challenged ME to achieve goals that I thought were beyond my reach. In the last three years, I have raised over $25,000 dollars for breast cancer causes. I have pushed my own boundaries to converse with total strangers on the importance of mammograms, self-breast exams, and taking charge of one's own health. I have walked hundreds of miles in training, with hundreds more to go, with the sole purpose being the eradication of breast cancer.
The 3-Day has provided me with an opportunity to contribute to a cause that is predominantly female. I have taken as my challenge raising the level of breast cancer education and awareness, so others might not have to experience the suffering that Wendy endured. My last 5 years have been life altering. I found, and lost, the woman I wanted to spend my life with. I watched her suffer pain unimaginable. But I have been given so much. I was allowed to be a part of the beautiful life that was Wendy Larks. Wendy wanted to make a difference in this world; she wanted to touch people's lives. Through the 3-Day, and now through me, she has and will continue to touch more lives than she ever imagined. The Avon Breast Cancer 3 Day has empowered me to write a new ending to the story, to try to put a happy ending to the fairy tale. The 3 Day has given me the opportunity to change my world.
Wendy Larks passed away July 31, 2001. In the hearts and minds of all of us that she touched, she will never die.
Play MP3 audio of the speech
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Wendy's Eulogy
Eulogy – Wendy F Larks
by Lyle F Deckowitz
August 3, 2001
I want to remember the feeling that I have right now. The deep, penetrating, tingling, overpowering excitement. The awesome anticipation. Knowing that even if this stops today, if for whatever reason my vision fails to break out into reality, my requirements have been forever changed. The electricity that I have surging through my soul right now has become the baseline. The bar has been raised.
I wrote those words October 20th, 1997, just three days after my first date with Wendy. But it didn’t even take that long for me to realize that the strong, spirited woman I had the good fortune to have met, would have a lasting impact on my life. The morning after our first date, I called my mother and told her that I had just met my future wife. The only thing that prevented Wendy and I from reaching that goal was Wendy’s fear of the recurrence of cancer.
Wendy made an immediate, intense impression on all of our lives. She gave a piece of herself to everyone she met. And she met a lot of people. In her most recent career as a flight attendant, Wendy was able to spread her enthusiasm to thousands of strangers who couldn’t help but walk away better for the meeting. Her flying partners had no way of knowing what they were getting into when they left on a trip with Wendy. Wendy wasn’t gossipy or cliquish. She just wouldn’t accept anything less than the whole truth, and wouldn’t put up with laziness. Wendy would say it like it is. When she didn’t get the same in return, you could feel the disappointment radiating from her. Wendy’s dedication to her passengers and flying partners after being re-diagnosed last October earned her special recognition from United Airlines as the Most Valuable Player for the Month of December in the Chicago Domicile.
Wendy applied that same dedication to her prior career as a successful massage therapist. Wendy loved practicing, and took tremendous pleasure in being able to work on her clients. Wendy had that love returned to her from those who practiced with her. It pained her greatly that she couldn’t return to a massage career full time after her first bout with breast cancer.
Wendy was not all seriousness. Who here can’t remember the first time you heard a Wendy laugh? What a memorable laugh it was. Her laugh was infectious – when you heard it, you would feel the incredible urge to smile, and to laugh right along with her. And Wendy was a library of jokes. She would hear a joke, store it away, then retell it - with slight changes of course - to make it uniquely her own. Her jokes came complete with sound effects, facial expressions and full body motions. Wendy couldn’t tell a joke or story while sitting still. And Wendy is one of the few women I know who understood the true genius of Larry, Moe and Curly.
I’ve told you that Wendy gave of herself. Sometimes, she gave just a little too much. You see, Wendy possessed a trait common to the Larks family. Let me try to paint a picture… a crowded bar, people talking, laughing, having a good time. Picture Wendy in this bar, sitting under a ceiling fan telling her stories. Now imagine the bar emptying, and Wendy innocently looking around trying not to look too guilty. Yes, Wendy was a true Larks.
Family was very important to Wendy. Even when they couldn’t remember her name. Wendy’s mom used to call her Wendy Sue. But Wendy’s middle name wasn’t Sue. So then she called her Wendy Fay Sue, which turned into Wendy Sue Fay, which turned into Sooey Foo, which turned into Oosyfoo. I think that’s right… In any case, few things made Wendy happier than spending time with her mother, brothers, niece and nephews. Over the last few months, as Wendy became sicker, many things were pushed lower on our list of priorities, but spending time with our families never moved from the top of the list. And I do mean families, because Wendy became a part of my family as I became a part of hers. On my weekends home from business trips, it was just as important to Wendy that I saw my family as it was that she saw hers. Wendy loved her family dearly. And she especially adored her dad.
Marshall was the Gumball King, and growing up, Wendy was surrounded by machines of all kinds. Gumball machines, pinball machines, the arcade machines that gave you an electric shock. Wendy’s house even had it’s own built in roller coaster in the basement, courtesy of Wendy’s Dad. Wendy also got from her dad her love for garage sales. Wendy would drive through a neighborhood, and her eyes would light up whenever she saw a picket sign directing her to a new source of treasures to bring home. One of the pieces of furniture in our house that she liked most was picked up from the street curb along the side of Touhy Avenue. Wendy also loved to buy presents for Matthew, Hannah, Zachary and her godson Nils. She loved seeing the smiles and hearing the screams as wrapping paper was separated from gift.
Wendy also loved her furry friends. Growing up, Wendy had a rabbit named Henry. At least that’s what she thought the name was. Eventually, Wendy discovered that the rabbits’ real name was Henrietta. After Henrietta died, Wendy got another rabbit named Cassidy, who she loved fiercely. When Cassidy died during Wendy’s first struggle with breast cancer 5 years ago, she was devastated. During her recovery, Wendy’s doctor suggested that a cat might do her some good, and when the opportunity presented itself soon after, Wendy agreed to become the human for Lucky the Cat. After Wendy and I met, we decided that Lucky needed a brother. Rusty the Cat found us at an animal shelter during Zachary’s birthday party, and we brought him home. Wendy considered Lucky and Rusty her boys, and treated them like kings. There was no question where I fell in the pecking order in our house… I was no higher than third.
Wendy’s love of life was evident in everything she was a part of. During her hospital stays over the past few months, we brought pictures from home to decorate the cork board in her room, and each day on 3 Northwest was a party. Wendy’s good humor, her easy-going attitude, and her incredible strength were an inspiration to so many. Most people never saw Wendy’s bad days – she kept them as private as her condition allowed. And Wendy was not a complainer. When you heard her fussing, you could bet she was beyond the end of her tolerance. Mom T took the day shifts, Mom D and Dad showed up at night. Wendy’s family and friends were always there to cheer her up. Wendy loved when CJ brightened up the room. Other than my invariable presence in the hospital, Wendy was continually nurtured by her future sister-in-law, who was a constant companion during the last few months.
Wendy was very appreciative of the care provided to her by all of her medical team. The staff of Highland Park Hospital 3NW never failed Wendy, and provided her family with the tools we needed to assist in her care, and finally in her passing. Cara, Linda, Lois, Gail… the names go on and on. Wendy never doubted the dedication of Wiz and Gay to curing her cancer.
During Wendy’s 4 and one-half years of remission, she decided to once again journal the events of her life. She began to write short chapters for an unfinished story. I’d like to share a few of her thoughts from those pages.
Live today as if tomorrow will never come.
Each of us have to find out what we enjoy – what makes us happy – and just do it.
Most of us walk around angry, jealous, resentful, plain old negative. We don't stop to think about the really important things in life. We fixate on the insignificant things…. we have to stop and think about the important things in life – the things that we have to be grateful for.
I need to talk more about early detection of breast cancer. I need to save lives, make a difference in this world.
Wendy participated with me and our families on the last two Avon Breast Cancer 3 Day walks. She talked with everyone she met about the importance of early detection, about the importance of taking control of your own health, about the importance of living each and every day to the fullest extent possible. Due to her health limitations, Wendy allowed herself to be pushed in a wheelchair for this years walk. Wendy was also chosen by the 3 Day to participate in the Survivors Circle, an honor that moved Wendy deeply. Wendy touched more lives than she ever imagined. Beautiful, you did made an incredible difference in this world, and I hope now you see just how much of an inspiration you truly were.
Recently, one of Wendy’s friends gave the Wizard of Oz book to her as a gift, and the inscription contained the following words:
You have this most amazing light in your eyes and it shines on everyone you meet… I am in awe of your grace and spirit and courage, and the way you don’t merely survive, but live each day.
… you touch people and you teach people about strength and perseverance and will and beating the odds and taking a great, big, glorious bite out of life every day. You’re golden. You’re an inspiration. I wish with everything I am that it didn’t have to be you in this struggle against the beast – but he’s up against the most valiant warrior I know.
Wendy, it is difficult to imagine the rest of my life without you. But there will be a life. And you will be in it forever. I love you.
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