Keeping Pace

Keeping Pace

Why?

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Days after her 35th birthday, she treated herself to an IUD. She already given birth to all the kids they’d planned. The procedure went well but for unknown reasons her OB did a double check on placement. This was how she discovered a mass that would later be determined to be Stage I ovarian cancer. Removal and chemotherapy followed and tonight this woman sits next to me in the yoga studio telling me her story.

In contrast to my husband’s story of metastatic lung cancer found so late in the game that even the palliative treatment was ineffective in easing the transition to death. It begs the question: why? But there is no answer. It is what it is.

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let the healing continue

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Lately, I’ve been craving twists and heart opening poses in my yoga practice.  Fortunately for me, the yoga studio is serving these up in super-sized portions. When the invitation comes, I latch onto it, take the pose as far as I am physically able, and bask in the moment. It feels as luxurious as a hot summer day, and the sweat rolls off of my skin as if it were.

They say that these twists have a way of wringing out “toxins,” and that the heart opening poses work to fill you up so-to-speak. Toxins, in my current reality, means this sickness that my body has been fighting and the pent up emotions that have been buried deep within. As I move towards the coming of Spring, the hurts of years past comes bubbling up — as it does every year at this time. It seems that I am more neutral to it this year, but the season has just begun.

I’ve done a lot of grief work in these past 5 years. The therapy, writing, sifting through years and years of medical records, and everything else has been quite a process. There is only one thing left for consideration. This one remaining thing is to write a letter to the oncologist to ask why, when the hospital records clearly noted less than 6 months, he told us that we had a year to prepare for the inevitable.

Death is never easy. I’m not sure that 11+ more months would’ve helped. Nor am sure that Tom wanted the suffering to go on that long. Why would he? But the truth most certainly would have been better, if only so the kids did not feel like we lied to them. Obviously, that was not our intent.

Although this letter has been on my list of things-to-do for quite some time, I wonder if writing this letter give me the closure I am seeking. I do not expect he will even remember us. If he does, it is doubtful that he will even know what he was thinking back then. As I consider this last task, I wonder what I want to say — today. It is different than the message I had a little as one year ago. I grateful for all the healing.

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one little word (2012)

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Every year-end, I swear the calendar year whooshed past faster than the prior. 2011 was no different. As I reflect upon the passing year I aim to set the energy for the one to come much like it did in 2010 when I chose HEALTH is my one-little-word for the year.

In 2011, I did not set the energy ahead of time. I’m not sure why. In reading through my posts from the year I find that the theme of 2011 was PATIENCE. Numerous set-backs, injuries, illness, and other hurdles tried to interfere with me having Boston — but I modified my goals, my training, and my lodging plans. In the end I got to enjoy the fruits of my labor and celebrate the race on my terms.

After Boston came more set-backs, injuries, illness, and hurdles. I took a break from running for 6 months (with numerous attempts and fails in returning to running). Patience came later. I filled my time with cycling — training for my 1st century. But even with that, I was impatient. I did not like being slow. I did not enjoy struggling to climb the hills. Fortunately, I persisted and, after a good deal of time, I saw improvement.

I also took up yoga, discovered how much weaker my right lower extremity is from my left. The difference is staggering, especially in balance poses, and it is the one area where I struggle with patience. Which brings me to 2012.

In 2012, I want more stability and strength. I want BALANCE — and so that will be my one little word for this coming year. And I figure, why wait until tomorrow to start working on it…

Why NOT end 2011 with a little balance? What better way to kick off the new year than by ending the current one “on the right foot” — literally and figuratively?

Happy New Year everyone!

the best-i-can

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Yesterday was filled with many tear-filled moments. I was overwhelmed, sad, and discouraged.

I wrote:
“My apologies to those who have some sort of expectation for me during the holiday season. I’m doing the best I can but, honestly, the best-I-can isn’t much these days. Sorry. It is what it is.”

Today, I am slightly more optimistic. Although the overwhelmed feeling continues to persist, so too are those wonderful people who come forth with a hug or words of encouragement. I manage to get a few things accomplished, am the recipient of random acts of kindness, and later run across the following poem, a reminder of where the focus of my best-i-can should be…
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life & love

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After seeing a movie where someone dies, YaYa has a hard time getting to sleep. He clings to me, and resists falling asleep for fear that morning will not come. After sifting through the critical family documents for YaYa’s birth certificate puts Tom’s death certificate in my hands as well, I have a similar reaction.

We all will die… someday. When I’m shaken, even knowing that our spirit will live on brings me minimal comfort. I don’t want to die. And I especially don’t want anyone close to me to die. Not now. Actually, not ever.

Letting myself fall in love again, knowing that there is no guarantee that me and my new love would grow old and gray together, has been a huge step for me. When first entertaining the idea of a relationship, I put my faith in God that he would not put me through the same pain again. I then tried to forget about all the widows I’ve heard of who found love again only to suffer another loss.

For the most part, the approach worked but occasionally, the fear of something tragic happening to The-Man-of-my-dreams haunts me. More than fearing him falling out of love and moving on is my fear that he will fall gravely ill.

I told YaYa that we cannot let our fear of death and dying prevent us from living and loving. Today, I must remind myself of this. The thing is life, and love for that matter, is without guarantees. And so, I do my best to push off the fear and just enjoy the beautiful gift of life and love which I have been given.

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