The second part of our trip started on Saturday when we checked into our hotel and immediately ran into some of our fellow melanoma warriors and caregivers.
They reminded us that though we each felt small in this big city we are loud when we're together. Literally quite loud. As in we may have scared everyone else away from the hotel restaurant that night. But as one post's commenter pointed out, MELANOMA was also scared of that table.
We spent much of our day Saturday before dinner knocking items off our bucket list, just in case we only make it to D.C. once. We saw the White House, although we didn't get to hang out with Sasha and Malia at all.
We visited the Renwick art gallery across the street from the White House. And don't laugh but I seriously think it may have been a highlight for everyone, including the boys. Each art display took up an entire room, like the rainbow made of threads or the map of the Chesapeake Bay made from marbles.
We visited Ford theater and the home across the street in which Lincoln died. Reading Lincoln's words reminded me yet again that we came because we have a government "for the people, of the people and by the people" and we had the gift of having a right to let our voices be heard.
We also took a taxi across town to buy a new camera battery and charger, left a credit card in the lobby snack shop (luckily the clerk got ahold of us), broke our electronics charger, had to send back Mo's first lunch because they brought the breaded chicken instead of grilled, got rained on and pushed our children way past the breaking point a few times. It seriously wasn't easy but what good story doesn't have a few little hiccups, right? Totally worth the adventure.
Sunday morning was real.
We spent seven hours in the conference room learning all about the things I should've cared enough about in high school. But I needed the review. We learned about government, the house, the senate, the role of our legislator's young staffers, what our asks are, upcoming awareness campaigns, and how to share our stories.
An advocacy expert gave us a presentation and we also heard from several melanoma warriors, their caregivers and loved ones of those who have died. I felt inadequate at times looking around the room I shared with a former pageant queen and football cheerleader, a former news caster, doctors and nurses, those who have written a book, started a foundation or been to Hill Day multiple times. There was something special about each and every one. I thought back to "Man's Search For Meaning" and remembered that those who "survive" emotionally, mentally and spiritually are those who can see purpose in their suffering. This defined a gathering like this. Today, there are nearly 1 million people living with melanoma in the U.S. But, all of the people present knew they could not let their hardships go to waste and they needed to find purpose and meaning in it. Not that they didn't have times where they felt broken down but they kept fighting to stay above it. What a privilege to meet and hear from them all.
Sunday at four we set back to work on our D.C. bucket list. We brushed the surface of the Smithsonians.
We had to see James Smithson's sarcophagus after reading a fictional mystery about D.C. with the boys.
We made it into the Natural History museum half an hour before closing so we raced through dinosaur bones and mummies, sealing the deal that despite all this bucket list checking we'd need to come back.
Somewhere near the White House Moses hit a wall. He needed food and warmth and no more walking immediately. We looked around and our choice were basically The Hamilton. Thankfully, it was less pricey than it appeared and they knew exactly how to accommodate for food allergies. And I was in heaven people watching and soaking in the art and atmosphere.
And then the monuments.
I could write a whole post on my thoughts on civil rights (and I think I will eventually) as I walked the path of MLK's march on Washington
and stood in the same spot from which Martin Luther King delivered his "I have a dream" speech looking out across the mall towards the Washington Monument.
I gazed back upon the memorial to the man who spoke the words, "Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth, upon this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal." He also, in his inauguration speech stated that "This country, with its institutions, belongs to the people who inhabit it."
It reminded me of something that we'd heard that day while learning about advocacy at the summit. Our advocacy trainer had told us we shouldn't worry that we were bothering our legislators or wasting their time. We are their constituents and they're our public servants. Our government works for us. And we were ready to tell them what we'd like to see done.
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