I’ve probably tried to start this entry a dozen times- different titles, changing words, multiple feelings, lost thoughts and a clear avoidance of sitting… being… pondering. I have found this space very hard to enter lately. The journal space. The feeling space. The pause and reflect space. It’s been a lot. It’s been too much at times and not enough. In this space I’ve also realized it’s been a bit of time that has passed. My excuse is I’m not good at this consistency thing, my inner knowledge is I don’t want to pause because when I do my feelings are big and my thoughts are often difficult and unpleasant.
I had so much hope to write during the Lenten season. I had many thoughts, feelings and reflections during that time. Again, started to write something and the pause became too great. I entered therapy again because my anger and my depression became too great. Over the course of several months I’ve awakened to a reality in which I have been unwilling to admit my cancer diagnosis to myself or out loud because I felt it wasn’t great enough and I minimize it almost into non existence. Being able to claim that and sit with the fear and anger has begun some healing. When I went back to work my first few patients were a pregnant, and new mother, both with hormone breast cancer that literally killed them within months due to its aggression. One barely had time to digest her diagnosis, give birth to her second child, hold her baby and toddler and say goodbye. It felt like one breath. The other was able to spend some months with her baby and small children before breathing her last after metastasis.
My anger is in the infinite question and statement of Why?! I was taken back 13 years ago to a patient who became a dear friend. She was diagnosed with Stage 3C ovarian cancer that quickly advanced to Stage 4 in her early thirties. I helped care for, and work with, her two small daughters around understanding their mom’s diagnosis and ultimately her untimely death. I was still single and childless and prayed that God would give me her cancer so she could live and experience all the things mothers were to experience with their daughters in life. I had truly felt the unfairness in those moments. I wanted to take her place. Within a few weeks, I sat by her bedside helping her and her children say goodbye. The unfairness and despair in those moments I’ve experienced on many occasion since. Most recent my dear friend who died of osteosarcoma, leaving behind her young sons and husband. Being with and helping her leave her legacy was such sacred time.
And here I am. Cancer free in a matter of months of finding it and completely my reconstruction surgery only to go on and live my life. This is why my words are few. At times I feel so deeply and greatly and at other times nothing, at least nothing I can name in the moment. That’s why I write this now, because I have so much that wants to come out I feel and at least writing it down will help me sort it out and help with my processing. It is what it is right now and maybe more sorting will bring more peace. When words are few, feeling and thoughts are big and in abundance. One may not have words, but know there are likely big things inside that just need time. Sometimes we just need to BE. Being is my season right now. It’s hard. It’s full. It’s uncomfortable and I don’t need to name it or overthink it.
The Journey Home 