Three weeks and I have had nothing to say? Well, not really.
I have been with Ms. R as she starts Chemotherapy after recovering from surgery. Her breast Cancer came back.
And while I have had lots of thoughts about myriad subjects, there is nothing I can write that seems more important than this. Nothing, no event, no wine, more insistent than those 2 C-words.
She is a Luminescence in my life. Yet the nights are dark and chill and the mornings darker still. There is a shadow that has stretched across our path. Still she manages to glow. She exudes warmth. I can not comprehend how she does it. It is beyond me in every way. But I have also seen her in her weaker moments. When the darkness hidden within exacts its price.
We have known about the cancer since mid-summer. But it is now, in the Autumn, as the leaves are starting their annual crayola swoon that we are bringing the fight home. Nausea. Exhaustion. Waves of both. Sometimes alternating. Sometimes simultaneous. I wish I could take it on for her, take it away from her, shield her, sacrifice myself for her. That would be so much easier.
But I cannot. I can only bear helpless witness and offer whatever comfort I can muster.
Yet the situation is not helpless. I know that we will survive. Stronger than before.
She is better equipped than me to field this difficult play. She has a strength of faith. Where I am underwhelmed by myths. She has an unyielding ability to find the best in difficult situations. She is not having breast surgery. She’s getting new “boobies” (her word). Is she delusional? No, just pathologically optimistic. I am the cynic. And she draws power from the love of friends and family. I prefer a more stoic approach. Yes she is my better half.
I ask myself, why her? There is no answer. That leaves me feeling very unsatisfied. So I come back here. To this place where words may help me to understand. Where I can be visible, yet undetectable. Where I can confess my doubts. Yes there is doubt within me. But there is also certainty that comes from her.
This is a pot hole in the road. The bridge is not out.
sybaritesauvage 
I was afraid that your silence meant something was happening with your loved ones…
Very, very best wishes for Ms. R’s speedy recovery. As my grandmother used to say, “I am sending life energy waves your way (“biotoki”)”.
You’re awesome! We are at the beginning of this part of the journey and getting such warm thoughts are meaningful. You should know that we move forward with our lives as usual– with smiles on our faces (even if we are a little more tired than usual).
Searching for the words to express sympathy over the situation that the two of you are in, yet hope and faith that the strength and optimism felt by you both will kick that C-word’s @ss! Hold onto the certainty.
Oh we are definitely kickin’ it!
Thank you so very much for giving us an even better C-word: Certainty.
Our best wishes for a speedy and complete recovery….”cancer” is a terrible word, but “cancer survivor” is a great one….
Right on, Brother!
We have too much living left to do and expect to be in that latter category. Thank you for your positive energy.
SS, lost my mom that way, and her in my arms; I’m sad for what you all are going through. Bless your Mrs. R.
I am sorry to hear about your loss. We each have been affected by this modern day plague. We remain strong and resolute. Thank you for your kind thoughts.
My thoughts are with you and Ms. R. Hoping for the best!
Thank you. We both really appreciate that.