Monday, October 12, 2009

Everything will be Alright.

No word yet on test results.

I found out Friday that one of my Ewing's buddies died. Not "passed away" or "went to a better place", but stopped-breathing-doesn't-exist-as-a-living-being DEAD. We went through treatment together, relaying philosophy on illness, life, and death. We both subscribed to the Taoist notion of "go with the flow", as it were. When he started learning the piano, I followed suit. We were both stong and vegetarian and cynnical twenty-somethings. I had no doubt he would be fine.

If you are lucky enough to be initiated into the Cult of Cancer, your brethren will soon become your support system, your best friends, your partners in chemo crime. And, inevitably, some of them will die on you, and you have to accept it.

I am in the midst of mourning for my cancer companions, to whom I relate in experience more than anyone else, more than my best of friends, more than my own family. I think of you every day. You live inside me now, in my thoughts and actions henceforth. I live for you. You are me.

Everything will be alright.


Levi said...

“In the Celtic tradition, there is a beautiful understanding of love and friendship. One of the fascinating ideas here is the idea of soul-love; the old Gaelic term for this is anam ċara. Anam is the Gaelic word for soul and ċara is the word for friend.

… In the early Celtic church, a person who acted as a teacher, companion, or spiritual guide was called an anam ċara. It originally referred to someone to whom you confessed revealing the hidden intimacies of your life. With the anam ċara you could share your innermost self, your mind, and your heart. This friendship was an act of recognition and belonging. … In everyone’s life there is great need for an anam ċara, a soul friend, in this love you are understood as you are without mask or pretension. Where you are understood, you are at home.”

–from Anam Cara by John O’Donohue

That about sums up how I feel about my cancery friends.

Kate Burton said...

I'm so sorry, I know the pain you are going through. I've spent more than one evening crying my brains out over the loss of someone I've never met in person.

Now that I'm a couple of years out I tend to get pissed...then I cry. Know we're all here for you out in the cyber world.

Miss Melanoma said...

I'm very sorry to hear about your friend. You and I are going through similar things right now, it seems. I know we don't technically know each other, but as we are both members of the cult now, just know that I am thinking of you and hoping that you are healing well and that your grief is as peaceful as it can be.

All the best,

grace said...

I had no doubt he would be fine too. I looked out for him on my IM page all the time, looking forward to our chats. (Truth be told i started messenger so that we can chat more) I thought for sure we would one day meet. We chatted about many things sometimes about cancer but more about our other world. Id like to think we were each others coffee break from cancer. He told me about the piano. Actually i remember him saying that the one thing he was going to miss about Buffalo was leaving the piano and guitar. I take great comfort in knowing that he made it to New Zealand, he was itching to get out there in the world. I went to the beach on Long Island yesterday where he told me he learned how to surf. It was a beautiful day with really great waves and all the surfers were out. I thought of you and all his friends that were touched by his amazing spirit. Patrick has inspired me in so many ways. I think of him everyday and now I think of you too. I hope this message finds you well.
Peace. Grace

kaylin andres said...

beautifully said. I think of him often as well.

Anonymous said...

Test results?? I hope they have come back with good news and you are off busy celebrating! X