Season of Sadness

This morning started in my backyard listening to the cicadas sing while watching small raindrops fall from the tree as the sun made its grand entrance.  So grateful for another day on this beautiful planet.  I’m learning to embrace this tightrope walk of life.  Navigating sadness and grief along with beauty and life.

My dear friend Peggy passed away after battling ovarian cancer for 16 years.  She had a tenacious and fighting spirit.  For the past seven years she was my “partner in crime” as co-facilitators for our region’s Survivors Teaching Students program.  We really were two peas in a pod.  We shared many a road trip, lunch, walks and countless chats on the phone.  We kept the mail service busy with our frequent cards of encouragement to each other. 

Peggy was a lighthouse, someone who experienced hardships yet lit the way for others to follow.  I found a sticky note on her hymnal after her death, it simply stated “I collect people.” And yep, that is what she did and I am so grateful I was in her collection!  The world lost a beautiful soul but her spirit of kindness and love lives on in all she touched. 

I am in a season of sadness, leaning into loss, acknowledging the feelings without pushing them away. Sometimes they engulf me, other times the memories help me laugh. I miss her terribly. So incredibly thankful for the friendship and laughter we shared. 

And just this week we lost a beautiful young mother to ovarian cancer.  Leslie was a vibrant, creative, loving soul who I met through online support programs.  My heart breaks knowing she leaves behind two young daughters.  We bonded over our love of crafts and nature. One of us was usually in the woods or on the water, and we shared encouraging messages and poems.  A beautiful life taken too soon.  At the end of this blog is a poem she sent me last year.  I can imagine Leslie in the moonlight flickering on the waves.

I know others that are also struggling, and yes, as the saying goes - cancer sucks. It really does! Tuesday I have my 26th taxol infusion since February. I’m thankful my cancer markers are down, but it sure would be nice to feel the bottom of my feet again!

I am incredibly grateful that so many brave cancer warriors have touched my life. My heart aches with loss, while embracing the joy they brought.  Remembering the light and love is what keeps me in balance on that tightrope.

I once feared the ocean,

Her magnitude and strength

And then I recalled that it is the moon

That softly rocks her waves to sleep

I wonder if she once was calm

Without her crashing waves of white

And then one day she decided that

stagnancy was no way to live life

She had noticed the stars

casting light on her skin

and how things got very bright

before going dark again

These things changed

They were rising and falling and always new

She wondered what it might be like

To live a life more fluid

She felt pulled to that beacon

of brightest light in the darkest sky

She asked if it might have any energy to spare

For she was tired of sitting idly by

So, the moon with her grace and generosity

Reached down to hug the ocean gently

She lifted her up and with a tickle of wind

The moon and the ocean became the best of friends

They dance and parade each night in this synchronous way

Casting light on the shadows of each passing day

It is their gift to us, to endure this human race

Lie back, child, and let the waves simply roll you in place

The less we force movement from within ourselves,

The easier we stay afloat and collectively heal.

By Leslie Andrus