The Table We Share

BC (before cancer) I was an “I” in an us & them world.

Now I sit at the table of humankind. We are together at the most amazing buffet… feasting in good company with abundant servings of thoughtfulness and generosity, simplicity and forgiveness. We honor each other just by showing up.

It will take me a lifetime to give back in equal measure, for all the gifts I have received this year.

My humble thanks and appreciation goes out to the food service saviors, the kitchen ninjas, house cleaning capers, donation darlings, appointment accomplices, healing helpers, photographer friends, facial faeries, my hair stylist sister, our babysitting buddies, to my great big amazing and diverse family, to my beautiful and enduring friends and the friends I never knew I had… until I needed you.

I am thankful for soft blankets, for funny nurses, for fuzzy hats and time to heal.

Thank you for bearing witness to this life changing experience.

We get to start over every day.

Wake up and give thanks!

last summer rose

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12 thoughts on “The Table We Share”

    1. Very thoughtful and beautiful words. You are a gifted writer.
      We all have so much to be grateful every single day.
      Thank you for the reminder Melissa.

  1. This is what Beloved Community looks like! Thanks for letting us see that radiance. Thanks for your willingness to take it in. This is what love looks like.

  2. As CSN once said, “Rejoice, rejoice, we have no choice but to carry on.” But we do have a choice…some curl up in a ball and sob (I suppose we all do, sometimes, when no one’s looking.” But others muddle through and remind us to give thanks for those angels and their tiny kindnesses.

    Tiny Kindnesses

    My friend Sarah,
    who I’ve known since high school,
    wrote me emails every day,
    while my sister bravely tried to mask her fear,
    because if it got me, she could be next.
    From June and Willy, there was a lovely, blank book
    to fill with my musings, my cancer stats and my worries.
    My niece Jessica brought supper,
    pink flowers, a pink teddy bear,
    and a beautiful pink pearl bracelet from a shrine in Italy
    that chemotherapy stained a ghostly white
    because I wore it every day, for every treatment.
    With my cousin Tina, who’d lost part of her right leg
    just before I lost my left breast,
    we grieved each other’s missing parts over the telephone.
    My friend Tony shuttled me back and forth
    to poetry readings without complaint, my personal chauffeur.
    And Lauren patched me up, literally.

    From others too numerous to name
    there were check-in phone calls,
    texts, cards, notes, bowls of bracing hot chocolate,
    herbs, handcrafted teas and salves
    made especially to heal the parts of me that were battered.
    There were wholesome dinners filled with love,
    laughter and good conversation,
    then a drive home because I was too weak
    to walk the five blocks back up the hill.
    There were sweet fruits and cookies,
    walks around the park at my snail’s pace,
    all I could manage at the time.
    There were small acts, too many to mention,
    little kindnesses that spoke volumes
    and helped me through the sleepless nights of steroids
    and the fatigued mornings filled with aches
    when I felt too weak to even climb the stairs to my bed.
    Together, all of these gifts, these tiny kindnesses,
    brought me hope,
    and for that, I am eternally grateful.

  3. So beautiful and thoughtful Melissa… just like you! I am so blessed to have you in my life. Thank YOU! Thank YOU! Thank YOU! XO

  4. You impress me every week. You are a wonderful writer, and your graciousness and thoughtfulness are inspiring.

    Love, Win

    On 11/24/14 10:16 PM, “melissa’s healing hope” wrote:

    > Melissa Eppard posted: “BC (before cancer) I was an “I” in an us & them world. > Now I sit at the table of humankind. We are together at the most amazing > buffet… feasting in good company with abundant servings of thoughtfulness > and generosity, simplicity and forgiveness. ” >

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