Edmonton marathon runner will carry mother's ashes across the finish line

'She's my inspiration ... And I'm going to take her across that finish line, just like she always wanted'

Media | Running for her mom

Caption: Rebecca Chelmick plans to carry her mother's ashes with her as she competes in the Edmonton half-marathon.

Open Full Embed in New Tab (external link)Loading external pages may require significantly more data usage.
As Linda Benham lay in hospital, waiting for the liver transplant that could save her life, she dreamed about regaining enough strength to finish a marathon with her daughter.
She died this spring, but her dream lives on.
This Sunday at the Edmonton half-marathon, Benham and her daughter will cross the finish line together.
"And I'm going to take her across that finish line, just like she always wanted," said Rebecca Chelmick. "I'm going to carry her ashes across the finish line."
Three years ago, when Chelmick, 40, ran her first half-marathon, her mother was there to watch.

Image | Linda Benham and her daughter Rebecca Chelmick

Caption: Linda Benham and her daughter Rebecca Chelmick celebrate Chelmick's first marathon. Benham died of liver failure in the spring of 2016. (Supplied)

It became a cherished memory for them, and one that provided much-needed inspiration as Benham's condition worsened.
"She lived for her grandchildren, my son and my niece, and one of the things she wanted to do was, she wanted to run a race with them," said Chelmick.
"And I think one of the reasons why she wanted to do that was because they've only ever known her to be ill, and she really wanted them to see her healthy."
"It was just one of the things, when she got her life back, that she wanted to accomplish."

Waiting for a call

By the time Chelmick ran that first race, her mother, 65, had been on the transplant list for six months, and was hopeful she would find a viable donor.
As the months dragged on and her condition deteriorated, the prospect of recovery seemed more and more out of reach.
"After the race, I spent the next three years caring for my mom," said Chelmick, through tears. "For the next three years, we spent a lot of time in and out of hospital, and basically waiting for a call.
"We never got the call."

Image | Linda Benham

Caption: Linda Benham died on March 31, 2016, after spending three years waiting for a liver transplant. (Rebecca Chelmick)

The family had hoped Chelmick's sister could be a living donor. The transplant procedure was scheduled for last November, but a week before the surgery date the family received a heart-wrenching change in diagnosis.
Blood tests showed Benham's liver was so riddled with disease, the surgery was no longer an option.
"There was nothing more that could be done, so we were taken off the transplant list," said Chelmick.
Her mother died March 31, after waiting more than three and half years for a life-saving transplant.

'This is what has kept me going'

Overcome with remorse, Chelmick said she found solace in the steady sound of her feet hitting the pavement.
"I hadn't picked up a pair of runners in the past three years," she said. "But about a month after my mom passed, I needed to clear my head. So I put them on, and it was therapeutic, very emotional, having that time to really reflect on things that were happening, and discover what my life was going to be like.
"And so I put them on, and just decided that I was going to run the half-marathon, and I was going to run it for her."
"I feel this is what has kept me going, and this is the first step in my healing process."
Chelmick hopes her memorial run not only helps assuage her grief, but perhaps prevents other families from facing a similar loss.
"Until you're in this situation, it's really hard to understand what it's like to wait for a call that never comes. And how we all could be in a position to save a life."
Her mother, she said, was her best friend, her inspiration.
"I know she would be very, very proud of me. And as hard as that race will be, she's just going to be there to keep me going and keep going."
With files from Trisha Estabrooks