WHEW! In September of 2005 at the age 64, I entered and finished my first 13.1 mile marathon in Virginia Beach, Virginia. The walk was in support of two friends who had survived breast cancer. What a thrilling experience that was. Little did I know that very soon I would have another reason to support cancer research.

I’ll never forget the day my brother called me to his office, took my hand, looked me in the eyes and told me that Valerie, his only daughter and my niece, had just been diagnosed with cancer. The first diagnosis from the doctors had been pneumonia. Now this! Valerie was 37 years old with a Master’s Degree in elementary education. She and her husband of 10 years had no children of their own, but Val’s love for other children (especially those some say were unlovable and unteachable) was evidence of the way she gave of herself.

My brother and I are both in our sixties. Our father is in his late eighties and very healthy. No one in our family, that we knew of, had ever had this disease. Valerie underwent a serious operation followed by chemotherapy. I would call or go by to check on her and inquire as to how she was doing. Her reply was always, "I’m fine!"

Valerie continued her education, even after having to go on a medical leave. Her desire was to get her certification in Special Education. As she said, she was determined to teach those children "no one else wanted." She would share with me the problems her students would bring to class with them; home situations, emotional hurts, and more. Before teaching them A B Cs, she had to minister to their needs. And that she did very well.

Once Val said to me, "Aunt Carolyn, we were not trained nor given the methods on how to deal with these kinds of problems. What should I do?" My reply to her was, "Pray, love and believe in God for the success of your students." Together, we stood on the promise of God in James 5:16b, "the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much."

Before long, the results of her love and patience for her children became evident to the faculty and parents. She found herself being given the more difficult students. The ones as she said, "no one else wanted." These were the ones she wanted. Even her choice of a pet showed her heart for the unwanted. She chose Cody, a cat from the Humane Society, because black cats were less likely to be adopted. Cody, the black cat, was loved and pampered by Val.

In December 2007, after fighting the good fight, not giving up, and continuing her education, Val and her husband sat in the doctor’s office and heard the words no one wants to hear, "It’s terminal. There is nothing else I can do for you." Around 1:00 a.m. the next morning, my phone rang, and I heard the voice of my niece saying, "Aunt Carolyn, I don’t have long to live."

My heart dropped. I felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach, but the words I said to her were, "Val, you shall live, and not die." The only thing that held me together that morning was that "I believed God." Valerie had become more like a daughter to me.

With each day, each week, and each month that passed, we held on to our belief and thanked God for the length of time he gave her. She fought with every bit of strength she had. Even as she began to weaken, she was so proud of being able to drive herself to get her handicap sticker so she could park closer to her treatment center. She picked up her own prescriptions, renewed her driver’s license, anything to show that she was a fighter. She was a quiet lady, but strong willed and determined.

The beginning of the new year came and went. I would inquire, "Val, how are you doing today?"

"I’m fine," she responded. February 14, 2008, Valentine’s Day, came and Valerie celebrated her 40^th birthday. Her strength was amazing. Her faith was unwavering. During one of our visits, I asked if she was afraid. Her reply was, "I’m not afraid. I just don’t want to leave the children." That was the first time I saw her cry. It was not about her, but about possibly leaving the children. I remember her laughter. Val would start to laugh at something we had said and could not stop. She would laugh until tears rolled down her cheeks. It was contagious and healing for all.

February came and went. We were in March, the month of Resurrection (Easter) and our family rejoiced. On April 14th, I called Val to say, "Hello. How are you?" and she gave her usual reply," I’m fine." We always ended our conversations saying, "I love you" to each other. Those were the last words she said to me. On April 15th, she returned to her heavenly father.

We will never know the depth of her legacy. We will never know how many families have been blessed because their children were in the class taught by Mrs. Valerie Lynn Watkins. For she touched, loved, counseled and prayed for so many children over the 10 years she taught school.

Valerie left a message for her family and friends. Her world was in the classroom. Our classroom is the world, starting with our family whom we are to love, cherish and protect. We are to feed the hungry, visit the sick and prisoners, clothe the naked and give shelter to the homeless.

Valerie made sure her family and friends would not forget her. She left her mark. She was born on February 14th, (Valentine’s Day-the day of love). She lived 40 years (biblically speaking, a very significant number). She made her transition on April 15th (tax day). And her earthly temple was returned to the earth on "Earth Day." How awesome was that? Her physical body may not have been in fine shape, or in good condition, but her spirit was indeed FINE. She left me a lot of love and good memories to hold on to, so I say as she said, "I’M FINE."