Cancer

As a widow, I know the pain that comes with loss. 

I thought I was immune to the fear of death.  

Like the heroine of a Greek tragedy, I could bear the worst.  

Yet, when I was diagnosed with cancer, my stoic wall crumbled.

I was terrified.  I could not focus.  I could not settle down. 

This was Friday afternoon. Surgery was scheduled for Tuesday.

A long time away.

Over the weekend, I turned to the Internet to research my cancer. A big no-no. The information added to my agony. 

Surgery

The surgery went smoothly.

The wait for the results was  excruciating.

The days passed slowly.

My anxiety was through the roof.

I kept checking my phone for a missed call from my doctor.

When my doctor finally called to tell me that I was cancer-free, the relief was indescribable.

I could breathe again. I was giddy and thankful. Another chance!

And now

I  regret the time that I lost worrying and imagining the worst.

It’s easy to get caught up in fear, especially when death seems to be waiting in the next room. 

I hope to live in the present.

Life is too short to spend my days worrying.

My days are numbered. 

They always have been.  

Kindness from a stranger

It’s funny how you remember people. 

Take Linda.

I thought of her today.

She is not a friend, a neighbor, not  even an acquaintance. 

Her number is not in my phone.

I don’t know what she looks like, who her children are, if any.

She is a random person in my life from years ago. 

I had one encounter with her. 

I don’t remember where it was.

I  remember the day.*

I remember her talking to me. 

I did not answer.  I may have nodded.  I’m not sure.

My head hurt.  

I felt weightless. There was nothing tying me to earth. 

Her words came from a distance.  

You have  tough times ahead. You must take care of yourself.

Over the years I have often remembered her words. 

Unsolicited, barely acknowledged,

Granting  permission to rest a bit, 

To give up being in charge, in control, always needing a plan.

She reached out to a stranger in pain, in shock.

I am grateful.

~Lori

*The day I  learned my Husband had a year left to live.  In writing this post I wondered what made me think of Linda. Then I realized, tomorrow is his birthday.

May 2017

Her Mother had just been diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer.

Treatment started right away. Continue reading “May 2017”

An Optimist!

~Photo Lori Greer in Portland

Italy has been on my shortlist of places to since my return from Europe in 2016.

Not in 2017, my daughter-in-law was diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer a few months after giving birth to her first child. 

Not in 2018, she was still fighting and I was caring for her and her baby.

Not in 2019, she was still fighting and I was caring for her and her toddler.  

She died in late 2019.  Continue reading “An Optimist!”

Sweet Girl

Last minute grocery shopping for Thanksgiving.

Her first Thanksgiving without her Mommy.

A bright, feisty,adorable, inquisitive, strong-willed three-year old.

 

Talking about Mommy

My heart breaks when she talks about Mommy being in Heaven.

As we went around the table at Thanksgiving to share what we were each thankful for, she loudly affirmed that she was grateful for  her Mommy.

It is good that she still feels the love of her Mother.

Her little face shines with the radiance and faith of an innocent child.

My sweet granddaughter who has my heart.

I felt it shelter

I felt it shelter to speak to you.  ~Emily Dickinson

Thank you, my friends, for your kind and loving words at the death of my daughter-in-law.

I read them all and was comforted by them.

They were a shelter, a safe place to grieve.

Thank you for being with me.

 

Fall in Portland, Oregon    Photo Lori Greer in Portland

 

Traveling Mercies

 

That’s what priests say when a person is departing.

Continue reading “Traveling Mercies”

The Only Prayer

If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.   Meister Eckhart 1260-1328  Christian Theologian

Continue reading “The Only Prayer”

An Encounter

There was a new nurse today at my doctor’s office.

She was young and eager to please.

She had trouble taking my blood pressure.

I didn’t mind, but she was flustered.

She succeeded the second time.

She was pleased, then puzzled and then upset to see me in tears…

Of course, it had nothing to do with her…

It’s just that she was young. Continue reading “An Encounter”

What we did not want…

 

~Foggy Lake Photo by Gabriela Palai/Pexel.com~

“When you are in the midst of a fog and can’t see the shoreline, you need a compass. Reach out to a trusted friend or adviser for perspective. People are not hard-wired to go it alone. They need others to survive and thrive.” — Edward T. Creagan, M.D.  Mayo Clinic

I am fighting the fog that has descended ever since my daughter-in-law entered hospice care a few days ago.

I am thankful to friends, family and neighbors who are helping me to bear the pain.

I grieve for her stuck down by this terrible disease at such a young age.

I grieve for her husband, my son, as he watches his family torn apart.

I grieve for their toddler who will not have her mother as she grows up.

There will be happiness again one day, but, for now, we are struggling to keep the shore in sight.