Thank you, PJ, for addressing this difficult topic. Although I've used the phrase "lost her battle with cancer" myself after a friend has died, I don't like its connotations. Yes, many people do battle cancer and often live longer than expected because of their tremendous will. But cancer may seem to be victorious, the example of the courage and strength of these warriors shows that concepts of winning and losing don't really apply. Your reminder "IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT" is so important. I also like the way you emphasized that there is no one best way to move on when our life on earth is over. That last passage is uniquely ours. In the inflammatory breast cancer community, we often use the word "warrior" to refer to a person coping with cancer and the word "pathfinder" to describe those who have moved on into that next life, whatever it may be.
I like that, Phyllis - warrior and pathfinder. I often think of us survivors as pathfinders of a sort, too. I see women just starting treatment toiling uphill, in the woods, below treeline; and we're up here above treeline, with a view back at where we've been, and a broad view, 360°, to every horizon. We can help guide the way. And you're right - the "battle" metaphor is a tough one, because it implies losing. And anyone who's had cancer is NOT a loser. We're in the fight of our lives; we get through, or we don't. But cancer doesn't win; and we don't lose. Thanks for connecting - PJH
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Dear PJ,
I am so grateful that you continue to share these thought provoking issues. I am 3 years out from my diagnosis and it has been an amazing journey. So far, so good, but as I share my feelings with other survivors, many of us can identify with the "one foot on the earth and one in the grave" scenario that plays out on an almost, if not daily basis. My husband and I attended a memorial service for my friend Jane who lived with metastatic BC for 7 years. She was 52 years old. We live in the same town and met through a couples retreat we attended for cancer survivors and their caretakers. I would bump into her at the Farmer's market, stop by her house on my daily walk (just for a hug), have tea with her at the local bookstore. But other than that we didn't have a lot of togther time in the 2 years since I've known her. I sent her an email asking if we could get together again and do tea somewhere in town. The email response was from her husband. He informed me that she had been on hospice for the last 3 months and that she was near the end. He wrote that I was welcome to come visit but he would understand if I didn't want to. She was quite depleted and not at all the Jane we knew before. It was asked of me that if I did want to visit that I call ahead because the end was that close. I experienced a few mixed emotions but the one that spoke the loudest was the one that said, "Go just hold her hand and thank her for being a part of your life". I fought against it thinking that "I didn't really know her THAT well", "I would be an imposition on the family", "I'm a little scared since I've never seen this near death thing in real life", and various other self doubting type thoughts. But I went. And I held her hand, and I cried, and I kissed her forehead, and I was able to tell her I loved her and I was glad she was a part of my life. That was pretty much it. I got an email from her husband the following day. Jane had died around 10:30pm that night. All my doubts about if I should have or shouldn't have visited were gone. I realized the incredible gift I was given to be able to be a part of her life right before she moved on.
The subject of death is hard. Harder for some, more than for others. I feel that it is a subject I have gotten a bit braver about. Tears still well up in my eyes when I think of all I'll leave behind. But when I see it as a natural course of events, I rest a little easier with it. Would I rather be 90 that 45 when I die. YES! But I don't believe I get to choose that. For any of us, cancer diagnosis or not, life is fragile. And I think I live a better life knowing this...
Thank you!!!~~~*
Oh, my... thank YOU. You have me crying - and it's not even 6 a.m. yet! But it's a good kind of crying. Crying for the sustaining beauty of love. And the way we're all diminished when one of us dies... yet we're all empowered to live on, and to live well. What you've written here are truly words to live by. I'm glad you had the strength to go be with Jane, to say goodbye and tell her what was in your heart. I know she took your words with her. Be well - PJH
That is very powerful and so true. bless you for reaching out to her.