I’m going to be off the grid for the next three days.
This will be my last post for a while.
My boy is home from scout camp and he is a stronger boy for it.
Something I’ve been working on is the grief I’ve felt every second of every day over this diagnosis.
It’s like you have this shelf, and a big huge tome has taken up all the space and it’s all you see all…day…long.
But as I’ve lived longer than I’ve been told I would by two world renowned cancer hospitals….
The big cancer grief tome has gotten smaller, and I’ve been writing my own stories.
Making room for joy and hope.
Every day I get to choose my story.
The poem by Mary Oliver comes to mind…
Today, what will you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
Today, I breathe in the air and soak up the sun and put my feet in the water and thank God for this wild and precious life.
“Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean–
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down —
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?”
Today, live your best life.
It’s the only one we get.
In Jesus’s name, amen.