Been a while since I was here last – the weeks flew by with
kids’ activities and not surprisingly, work. I am writing today for a friend, who lost his mother
365 days ago, not a year, not 12 months, but day by day that has taken him to
where he is today.
Somewhere inside me, a river seems to flow, inviting a
journey into my awareness of how people grief and live again. One of the many
stories that beautifully enrich me over the years of working at this regional
cancer centre - I remember myself running to the hospital Gift Shop getting her
the favourite plant so she would have something with her during her long drive
from the hospital back home on the other side of the mountains. I was “with”
her for almost three years diligently looking for everything about an
experimental drug for her Stage 3 cancer that was deemed for her not to exceed
the life expectancy of 4 months. I was “with” her on her plane to England after
we found out a team of oncologists would administer the therapy there; I was
“with” her when she was informed that her tumours were shrinked significantly
because of the new treatment; I was also “with” her when she was told that her
cancer was metastasized again, another six months before our last time
together. I still keep the card from Sherry, a devastated sister to her, who
also worked at the same hospital as a nurse, after she passed away four years ago. Now a
project manager for the Provincial Integrated Cancer Survivorship Program,
Sherry and I have managed to have our career paths often crossed. Sitting rows
apart at a recent survivorship event, we were watching a video by cancer
patients and for cancer patients - at a moment of exchanging smiles, both in
tears we saw Dawn, her sister.
Forget-me-not
as time goes by
Remember me
not with sadness
or with tears
but with smiles
and laughter
with joy
and anticipation
of the day that
we will meet again
until then...
Forget-me-not
