Here it is, my second entry, why not just jump right in? Last week was a long week. And I have had some nuggets, some gems jump forth, so here they are.  To make a very long story short, I was diagnosed with cancer when I was 24 years old, 12 years ago; my first meeting with death face to face. I have had other experiences where death was very close by, but I was too drunk to know it. I am also a recovering alchoholic for the past 14 years. But that is another story. Back to my first sober meeting with death.  Ever since that day in January of 1995, I have been playing a little game of tag with my friend Death. Each year, I go in for an appointment to make sure the cancer has really gone away for sure.  And each year, I am sitting in the waiting room holding my breath.  Each year I inhale a bit more, but still, I hold my breath and see if I can outsmart my friend Death one more year. This past week, I wasn't so sure.  I heard the words from my doctor, "They don't think it's anything, but they may have seen something on your lung." My eyes widened into the size of the full moon, as I held my breath. Thankfully, my doctor is a woman of great compassion and told me to "Breathe." Good advice. So, I did and I actually felt my feet on the ground. I remember that. And I drove off for another test to see if I could dodge the Grim Reaper yet another time. Andy met me at the hospital for my second chest xray. In the changing room, where I changed into a lovely hospital gown, I had a small, but satisfying temper tantrum with God. Wondering, wny me? Damn it.  I swallowed my pain, I could feel the bip lump of fear slide down my throat and into my stomach. I went out of that room, stuffing a big cry.  We waited together and I had my chest xray. Whenever I am in a hospital, I can feel and almost hear the unspoken fear of many.  I can feel the many before me who have either dodged Death or those who have not. I breathed as the tech told me, 2 business days. I tried to read her face. Does she know something? Does she have a look of pity? Am I dying? Did I lose the game this time? I headed home and straight into my therapist's office. Thank God. I let that fear pour out of my shaking body.  As much as I could, at least.

Then, I woke up. I realized when I walked out of her office, that I CAN'T WIN THIS GAME. I can't win. That I will die someday. But it wasn't going to be from the spot on my lung, because there wasn't one. Just a shadow from my nipple. My nipple! I have size A, maybe, breasts. Certainly not big enough to cast a shadow. So, if I can't win this game of tag with Death, then what to do? Here is what my heart told me.  Death is not chasing me. Death is not interested in finding me. Death knows where I am because Death is with me every moment of my Life. Life and Death. My friends. So, since last week, I decided I was going to be friends with Death. How would I do that? When I get in my car, I see Death sitting next to me. Some days I ask it to buckle it's seatbelt, but it doesn't really care about those things. Sometimes, as I am sitting at my kitchen table sipping my afternoon tea out of my big pink mug, I see Death across from me, nudging me to breath life in fully. That's just it, Death teaches me to live fully. I have been given the gift of meeting Death face to face, at a young age. And ever since, I have been aware of Death's presence. And being aware of Death's presence, makes me live more fully. When I think, Should I teach that class? I am scared. Death says, YES!, do it.  If I say, I want to move my body in church, but what if people think I am crazy? Death puts friends in my path who say "People already think your crazy, go for it." And when I think, maybe I just shouldn't tell her how I really feel? Death says, oh honey, Now is what you have got, speak your truth.

I don't want to dodge Death anymore and Death is not interested in playing that game with me. Death, as does Life, just wants to be my friend.  I think I might let it.

 

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