Turn off the TV. Shut down the computer, the IPad, your phone. Close your eyes. Now breathe. In with the good, out with the bad. Free your mind of all distractions. Breathe. Again. Again……
My all- time favorite Bible verse: “ Be still and know that I am God”. Being still doesn’t just happen. I have to allow it to happen. I have to remember that I need create stillness. And when I do, I’m never disappointed. I hear you, God.
I’ve been busy these last few months. Busy grieving. Busy fighting for my grief. By allowing myself to grieve, I’ve put my awareness activities on the back burner. For a variety of reasons, really. Mainly because I have needed to give myself the time and the latitude to work and process through this dismal jungle. But now, I need to make a choice. Am I going to continue with my melanoma awareness involvement like I did while Jillian was still with us, or am I going to slow down, or possibly stop? By continuing my involvement with melanoma and all it entails, is this helping me, or hurting me? Good questions.
While pondering these questions after dinner last night, I came home to an email from a melanoma caregiver. This woman has become very special to me. It is scan week, and she needed to talk. I remember vividly scan week. Scan day. Result day. It’s awful. You try to be positive and tell yourself you can’t wait until you get to hear the good news. That works. For about two seconds.
Your heart is doing flip flops. Your hands shake. Your mouth is dry. You try and read the results from the doctors face as he walks in the room. If he smiles and jokes, it’s good news. If he beats around this bush and talks about everything other than why you’re sitting in that hard backed chair, it’s bad news. FEAR. I will never forget those days, and my heart hurts for my melanoma friends. They will be living with scan weeks forever. I think about Jillian and her fears and emotions during scan week. What were her fears as she was faced with a melanoma cancer diagnosis? Did she run from life because of it, or did she run with life in spite of it? I already know the answer.
Staying away from the pulse of melanoma isn’t going to take the pain of losing Jillian away for me. It will always be there. You just wouldn’t hear about it as often. I’ve read somewhere that there are three ways people deal with their grief. Some talk about their loved ones often. Some don’t talk about their loss much at all. Others become activists and try to keep their loved ones memory alive. None of them are right, none of them are wrong. They just are. And I’ve decided. I’m door number three.
Life doesn’t necessarily have to be easy. But I believe it does need purpose. So bear with me as I stumble and fall, and laugh with Jillian when she hauls me up. Again and again.
Fall Seven Times, Stand Up Eight.
I hear you, God.