John, Paul, George & Ringo sing for the cause

The Fab Four accompanied me on my training walk today. I walked for over an hour and a half and listened to just about every Beatles song I have on my iPod. Sometimes I need to listen to them like that, song after song, to remind myself just how much they changed the world of music forever, how incomparably unique and talented they were.

Well, the Walk is just a week away. It's on my mind most of the time. I think about what an honor it is to be with Lily's family and others who knew and loved her at this event. I also think about the people I meet on the Walk. It's almost universally true: everyone who participates in this event wants to talk. They want to talk about the person they lost--not so much about the sadness but about the happy memories they have. They want to know about the person in whose memory you are walking. I can't tell you how many people have said to me, "Tell me about Lily." This is one of the most wondrous aspects of the Walk for me. Since I didn't know Lily, I don't have much to say. However, I find that it is good to listen, to forge a connection with people who are in pain. I think that by doing nothing other than being quiet and paying attention, I am in some small way helping people whose wounds are deep and permanent. At least I hope I am.

I'm sorry you lost hope, Lily

"Though Adam was a friend of mine, I did not know him long.
And when I stood myself beside him I never thought I was as strong.
Still it seems he stopped his singing in the middle of his song.
Now I'm not the one to say I know, but I'm hoping he was wrong."

"A Song for Adam," by Jackson Browne

The Walk is getting closer...

As the Walk gets closer, I have mixed feelings every day. Some days when I'm training I feel so strong; other days I think I'm never going to be able to do this. But I know I will get it done because there is something in me that feels this is so important--for Lily's family and friends, for everyone who has lost a loved one, and for all those who suffer from mental illness.

One funny thing...I've stopped training in Verona Park because the path along the lake is COVERED with goose poop. Yuck! This morning I went to Brookdale Park and even though it rained part of the time it was a great walk. Listened to Jackson Browne, which may not have been the best idea as he always makes me sad, but somehow his poignant lyrics fit the weathdr and the reason I'm walking.

Lily's friends from the a cappella group she began in high school, called Accent, are recording a CD for the Walk and calling it Water Lily. They have started a FB page to raise money for producing the CD and for the Walk and there must be 1,000 names on that page. After three and a half years people miss her more and more and love her so deeply and feel such raw pain that she is no longer here. It is inconceivable to me that with so many people loving her so much, Lily was still in such excruciating pain that she either could not recognize how people felt about her or all that love and caring just couldn't assuage the pain enough to make her feel she could bear to go on living.

That's it for now...

Hova gets me moving tonight

Great walk tonight. Plugged myself into Jay-Z's The Black Album. Fantastic music. And his lyrics--so intelligent and also so witty at times: "Do I look like a mindreader, sir? I don't know."

You may notice I've added some photos to my blog. The top one shows our Walk for Lily team at the outset of the 2008 Overnight. We're walking over the Brooklyn Bridge, which was a really thrilling experience. You can see we're all smiling and upbeat. That's typical--the atmosphere at the Walk is more hopeful than sad.

The second photo is of the luminaria I left at the end of the Walk in Lily's memory. In contrast to the mood during much of the Walk, the ceremony that marks the end of the Overnight is cathartic and excruciating. The sun is rising; it is chasing away the darkness. Each walker is given a luminary upon which they write a message to the person who is gone. These luminaries are lined up all along the plaza where we start and end our journey. The long line of light is a moving sight, particularly with the sunrise--a symbol of hope and a new beginning--in the background. But this is also the time when people fall apart and let their grief pour out. People who have been strong all night, for 20 miles and many hours when they would ordinarily be sleeping, show their vulnerability and the healing they have yet to achieve. I felt lucky and honored to be a part of this ceremony, despite it being nearly unbearable in its intensity. Truly an incredible journey...

Wow, this is harder than I remember

Never made it to the park yesterday but I did go today. The weather was ABSOLUTELY PERFECT in every way--sun, not too warm yet not too chilly, not windy. I walked around the lake in Verona Park, a beautiful park near where I live that was designed by the same person as Central Park in NYC. I work out in the gym but apparently I need to ramp it up a notch because I found my stamina to be really lacking. It's 1.2 miles around the lake and after one lap I felt really, really tired. I kept going and ended up being able to do 3 laps. I have to admit that once I got into a rhythm it became easier and by the time I finished I felt fine. But I think that I'm going to need a lot of practice to be able to complete the 20 miles in Boston, especially because Boston has a lot of hills. (Fun fact: They run the Boston Marathon this Monday.) I don't remember feeling this rusty on my beginning training walks in '07 or '08 but not to worry--I will definitely be up to speed by June 26.

Tip for my fellow walkers: I don't remember where I read this, but when I was training for the 2008 Overnight I read that if you can do a 10 mile training run you will have no difficulty completing the 20 miles at the Overnight. I can vouch for that--I never walked further than 10 miles during my training and the Overnight was a piece of cake (except for the humidity, but I'll save that for another post).

Spring has sprung...

FINALLY, spring weather has arrived here in New Jersey and I am able to start training in earnest for the Overnight. This will be my third AFSP Overnight Walk--2007, 2008, and now 2010. Training is an exhausting, time-consuming, sometimes uncomfortable yet exhilarating experience during which you learn a lot about your stamina and your determination--not to mention how to soothe a host of aches and pains. In the past, I have trained in spring weather that was so unseasonably cold I had to dress as if I were going on a ski trip. On the other hand, during the 2008 Overnight itself, it was so hot and humid in NY that I could not keep my glasses on my nose--they kept sliding off! In future posts, I will regale you with stories about my training walks if I think you may find them amusing or interesting and hopefully pass on some tips to any first-timers out there.

But since this is my first posting to this blog, today I want to talk about what motivates me to participate in the Overnight. In the past I have walked in memory of my son Justin's friend, Lily Diana Karian, who died by suicide on December 12, 2006. Our team is called, appropriately, Walk for Lily. Lily had turned 19 that October and was barely three months into her freshman year at Tufts University. I will tell you more about Lily in later posts; she was a remarkable young women and people should know about her and what the world lost with her passing. Participating in the Overnight in Boston this year will be especially poignant. Tufts University--from which Lily would be graduating in May had she not died--is located in Medford, a suburb located just a few miles outside of Boston. Lily grew up in Sudbury, a beautiful town located about a half hour outside of Boston. Because of the location, we hope to have a large team of Lily's friends, people from her church, and family who might not be able to participate if the Overnight were held in a more distant city. So in some sense I feel that this is Lily's special Walk.

This year, unfortunately, I am walking not just for Lily but for others as well. My younger son, Brian, attends Cornell University. During this school year, an unfathomable SIX Cornell students have chosen to end their lives by suicide. During one week in March two young men died, one the day after the other. The devastation wrought by such losses is beyond words.

Right now we have the tools to help many--but not all--individuals facing depression or other mental disorders, including those contemplating suicide. We need more research, and we need more outreach so that people who are suffering know that help is available and--even more importantly--know that there is no shame in seeking such help. As the President of Cornell University, Dr. David J. Skorton has repeatedly told students over these last few painful weeks, "If you learn anything at Cornell, please learn to ask for help." If traipsing around Boston for a night in June will raise money to support research and outreach that will save the life of even one person, prevent heartache for even one family, I think I will have done something worthwhile. That is why I walk.