The formidable building of Kaiser Hospital came out as I turned the corner. Its location is quite isolated. It stands on a wide expanse of land with no other huge structures around it. And the way to Kaiser from any direction is rather uneventful until you see its modern edifice.
I ran the 1.5 mile distance to Kaiser from our house with my late wife in mind. We traversed this way too many times for her treatments, doctors' visits, to pick up prescriptions, and quite a handful of times, trips to the emergency department. The Kaiser Hospital was a frequent destination. But unlike the image of sickness and ailment associated with a hospital, my wife saw the hospital as the way to her wellness. She was always calm and collected when she makes her hospital visits. I don't remember an occasion she feared going to the hospital. Even the times I took her to the Emergency, she was always ready to go.
As I rounded the Kaiser grounds and gazed upon its impressive size, I remember one quality that she exuded during her cancer journey -- her courage. Her courage to fight cancer was heroic. Her courage to survive in the midst of suffering was resolute . And her courage to accept her illness as part of her life was full of faith. That was the kind of courage she had. That was her way.
I turned around to head back home and looked at Kaiser over my shoulder one more time. I'm going to miss taking my wife here. But I will surely keep this route in my training runs. It's her way.