Pictured above: rides around New York’s Finger Lakes with my trusty steed, my road bike named Evangeline.
It’s time to ride a century (100 miles) in memory of my Aunt Bobbe
This year I’ve ridden my bicycle around 10 of the 11 Finger Lakes in New York State. On July 26 I rode 100 miles around my last one, Cayuga Lake, with my best friend. I will now donate $1 for every mile I’ve ridden around lakes this year in memory of Aunt Bobbe.
WE DID IT!
We biked 108.5 miles around Cayuga Lake on July 26.
Between my donations and donations from friends and family, we will be gifting a whopping $1,679.94 to OSF HealthCare Cancer Institute.
Thank you for your help, support, and care during this journey!
My Aunt Bobbe (a nickname for Barbara, pronounced like “Bobby”) died on May 24, 2023 of ovarian cancer. She fought her rare form of the disease courageously for many years, sitting through chemo treatment after chemo treatment, sometimes with my mother, the jokester, at her side making her laugh (or roll her eyes).
Her goal was to make it long enough to be treated at the brand-new OSF HealthCare Cancer Institute in Peoria, Illinois. While she was never able to walk the halls of the new cancer center, which opened in February 2024, her memory and name live on.
My donations will go to OSF Healthcare Cancer Institute in memory of Barbara Stitzel
Located in Peoria, Illinois, the new state-of-the-art facility offers research spaces, exam rooms, laboratories, pharmacy and a diagnostic center. The space has also been designed so that the cancer teams can gather and discuss cases, providing a multidisciplinary approach to treatment.
My aunt received regular treatments with OSF, but unfortunately never got to see this new cancer center open. I had the honor of attending the grand opening and donor celebration with my uncle, who has, since my aunt’s death, spent time ensuring her memory lives on at OSF.
OSF is a special place because of its mission to provide state-of-the-art cancer care in a semi-rural place. Cornfields and farms surround Peoria, Illinois, and I like that people in those areas can get such expert treatment without having to travel all the way to Chicago, or elsewhere.
Join me if you’d like – I’m accepting donations on Venmo and will send one bulk amount to OSF in her memory
- Owasco Lake: 33.63 miles, 1,451 feet | July 22, 2024
- Seneca Lake: 81 miles, 2,792 feet | June 16, 2024
- Conesus Lake: 18.77 miles, 543 feet | May 23, 2024
- Honeoye Lake: 18.62 miles, 715 feet | May 23, 2024
- Skaneateles Lake: 38.61 miles, 3,117 feet | April 29, 2024
- Canadice Lake: 7 miles, 60 feet | April 23, 2024
- Hemlock Lake: 25.64 miles, 2,366 feet | April 23, 2024
- Keuka Lake: 44.81 miles, 1,543 feet | March 26, 2024
- Canandaigua Lake: 48.78 miles, 3,511 feet | February 23, 2024
- Otisco Lake: 14.16 miles, 1,008 feet | February 9, 2024
Total for FLX: 331.02 miles = $331.02 + $100 for Cayuga
Just for Fun:
- Waneta and Lamoka Lakes: 23.88 miles, 1,233 feet | February 8, 2024
If you prefer to make tax-deductible donations for yourself, please use this link to send a donation to OSF, being sure to write that it’s in memory of Barbara Stitzel.
“Live the life you love” is how she ended the last text she sent me in 2023
More about why I’m doing this
I didn’t know Aunt Bobbe very well for most of my life, to be honest. She and my uncle moved often for his work and always lived far away –– Washington, Colorado, Oregon, New Mexico, Illinois; the list goes on. But she and my cousins would come and stay for summers in Western New York, and I always admired her elegance, her wit, and her tinkly laughter. She had jewelry that matched every outfit. She always had her nails done. Her hair was perfect. She was beautiful and open, loving and kind. I envied her, and I was also a little intimidated by her apparent perfection.
In my late 20s I got to know her better, and I was astonished to discover how like her I am. Our visits and text messages made me feel like I’d found a piece of myself that I had been missing, with many realizations of “Oh! This is why I’m THIS way,” or “I do that, too!”.
We spent our last night together in March 2022 sitting by the pool in Phoenix, Arizona, just chit chatting about everything. She and my uncle have taught me more about life and love over the past several years than I’d come to learn and know in my 30 on this earth. And while I didn’t know I had this wisdom-filled gem available to me, untapped for most of my life, I’m glad I know her wisdom now. And I’m glad I can carry her wisdom with me everywhere I go.
I have her cheekbones and her slender hands –– and I can only hope I have her smarts, her ambition, and her grace. This ride and these donations will help future ovarian cancer patients in Illinois and elsewhere get the treatment they deserve.
Emily M. Steves: Portfolio of Work 