Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Tonight's picture was taken in July of 2003. I have posted other pictures from this time period the past two nights. I have come across a folder I haven't looked at in a while, so I am sharing some special moments with you from this folder. Though this picture may not seem that fascinating to you, to me it is a very special picture. It is special for two reasons. The first was because Mattie and I were walking hand in hand to see the lighthouse in Hatteras. Though Peter and I had been to the Outer Banks several times before Mattie was born, we were never able to walk up to the Hatteras Lighthouse because it was in the process of being moved to safer ground. Therefore, that was my first time venturing to see this structure. The second reason this picture is special was that you can see Mattie really trying to walk and doing a great job. He was studying his feet as he was walking. Mattie began walking independently at 16 months, so at 15 months here, he was basically almost there!
Quote of the day: Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows. ~ William Shakespeare
I am beginning to see that Shakespeare really had a very deep understanding for the emotions of grief. He realized the complexities and the various dimensions associated with surviving the death of a loved one. His description of "twenty shadows" interests me, because the definition of a shadow is..... an area where direct light from a light source cannot reach due to obstruction by an object. So in this case, grief is ONE very large object, that not only obstructs light to one area inside a person, but TWENTY! Grief does this by casting almost a cloud or shadow of darkness within a person, and the struggle for the griever is to try to break through this confusion. A confusion which leaves you in an unrecognizable state, without any sort of guide posts or maps.
For some time I have viewed my perspective on cancer as different from others. But it wasn't until I emailed my friend and colleague, Nancy, today, did I actually verbalize it. It is a feeling that I am trying to work through, but it is very real and yet not very nice to admit to. As I say all the time, on July 23, 2008, I became a part of a club. The cancer club. Not a club anyone voluntarily joins, but just like any other club, it has its own culture, its own preferences, its own language, and it is VERY costly. However, when you lose someone to cancer, you then become a member of an even more exclusive cancer club. Not everyone is given the opportunity to join this club, because the first step toward initiation is death. So though I am a part of the first club, the cancer club, I find that I greatly identify with cancer death club. Or death in general. Where is this going? Well I believe that depending upon which club you are a part of, this influences how you take in and absorb information presented about cancer.
I find that I have a VERY, VERY difficult time listening to positive messages, sunny day scenarios, and other hopeful messages as it relates to cancer. In fact, I find it very difficult to listen to survivors. Naturally, I am happy when people can conquer cancer, and I understand the battle that entails, but for me it is simply bittersweet to hear these messages. Mainly because I am always left feeling..... well why not Mattie?! Why wasn't he spared? Cognitively I realize as a human being, I do not want to see others suffer and especially battle cancer. I want cures, I want the day where the word cancer doesn't even exist. However, the other side of me, the raw side, the Mattie mom side, simply looks at this whole picture and says, I can't hear your success story, your positive message, because my son never had a chance, and he will never be able to live like you. This in a conflict I have within myself, and it always flares up around the time when I am planning a Foundation event. Simply because I know on one hand I want to explain the reality of the situation and on the other hand I have to approach this with a degree of sensitivity since everyone doesn't view this topic with my lens and broken heart. So the moral of the story is that cancer is a disease, that affects the patient and his/her family, but the long term emotional consequences and impact varies greatly for each of us touched by the disease.
I wanted to alert my readers to the fact that Friday, February 4, is World Cancer Day. I received the below message from the LiveStrong organization. They designed a five question cancer quiz, which you may find interesting. It doesn't take long to complete, and you may find some of the responses fascinating.
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I’ve had a long, personal battle with cancer, but I was still shocked when I first learned the facts of cancer’s enormous impact around the world.
You’ll feel the same way when you take our five question World Cancer Day Quiz. It’s a great way to get the startling facts about this global epidemic.
The truth is, we can’t win the fight against cancer unless we know what we’re facing. That’s why on World Cancer Day—Friday, February 4—LIVESTRONG and our partners all over the world are working to raise awareness and shine a spotlight on the global challenge of cancer.
Take the quiz and share this link to help raise awareness for World Cancer Day:
http://Quiz.LIVESTRONG.org
Please do your part and help us move even closer to a world without cancer.
Thanks for taking action,
Doug Ulman
President and CEO, LIVESTRONG
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February 2, 2011
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