not for the faint of heart

It was a day of twisted contradictions… to begin to feel better in my skin, my soul coming back from the outer fringes of my being and settling into this here body. Energy is returning and life is resuming BUT there is a heavy truth inside, a knowing of how easily it could all be taken away. The weight of it is crushing, threatening to swallow my small happiness with its immense blackness.

Today a family friend, a woman who has been putting up a fight longer than I, has lost her battle with cancer. The chemo was too much for her heart. She was undone by the same red devil that I had endured. I found out another woman, only 26, recently passed. My husband played music at her benefit only 2 months ago. My friend lost her husband to cancer a month ago. Another friend very recently lost her sister. I hear of babies and children plucked before their lives even had a chance to really take root. It’s all just too much awfulness to bear.

Today I get to live. This is my big second chance. Sometimes I feel like shouting from the roof top in celebration of my returning health, but then I see a dark cloud approaching -I dare not speak too loudly and make myself known for it may find me and swallow me whole.

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3 thoughts on “not for the faint of heart

  1. Oh, Melissa, my heart aches for you. My husband and I were at that benefit Joey played at BSP a couple of months ago. He played unbelievably that night–we could tell how significant the gig was for him. I’m so sorry for these losses, these fears. Us survivors of BC only have the moment, the present. We don’t know what lies ahead. We only know what is now. This moment. We’re living. We’re breathing, even crying or afraid. We’re alive. Who knows when that dark cloud will reach us or what it is. It might be a cloud of butterflies…

  2. In death, I take some comfort in the artists and poets of the past. I’m partial to the “Dance of Death” prints of Hans Holbein the Younger. William Dunbar’s “Lament for the Makars” is also a poignant poem on the beauty and brevity of life.
    But these are elegies to long dead people and eras. Eternal beauty is something we have to find somewhere in our own lives.

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