Cancer or not, the everyday world proceeds. I renegotiate the dullard car insurance (why would I pay to insure myself when I’m not driving?). This morning, the cat, seeking the milk jug on the counter, leaps on the kibble container I didn’t properly close. Kibble mounds over the kitchen floor. For the briefest moment, both cats stare, unable to process their astounding luck: a landslide of food.
Among minor domestic changes which involved a ridiculous amount of discussion: we swapped one washing machine for another. I posted the old one (a workhorse from the previous century) for free on the local digital bulletin board. While I was heating up the pot roast my friend dropped off, a young man I’ve known since he before he lost his milk teeth asked if the washing machine was available.
He arrived not long afterwards. We stood in the kitchen, talking about infected wisdom teeth (his, removed) and cancer (mine, in process of removal) and the medical system and capitalism. He asked if I knew what gave me the cancer, what empowered one gene to divide and divide again and again.
I have my theories, my guesses about this answer, nothing hard and set chiseled into stone. But isn’t it often the way that a sudden shift in events is triggered by multiple strands of actions, working seen or unseen? Leaning against the door, rose-cheeked with cold, he posits that nothing happens without a reason, that the universe is never capricious. I set my wooden spoon on the counter.
Here’s a thing: two months — 60 days — into the cancer world, with two rushed ER visits and two dodges of the grave, two chemo sessions, a complete upheaval of my life, my family’s, my colleagues’ — I woke early one recent morning and realized cancer will be with me until I cross into the next realm. But likewise, what I’ve labored hardest and most tenaciously and (often) most joyously will be with me, too. Raising babies into women, writing books, sobriety, cutting off a troubled marriage and recreating my life. But aren’t we all that way? Shouldering along with us the stones of our lives we’ve chosen, and the rain that’s fallen from the heavens and soaked us, too?
Here’s a Vermont Public Radio interview with Vermont Almanac editors Dave Mance and Patrick White, about this unique books and the non-cliché Vermont world.
A few lines from Dave Mance’s preamble to a book packed with plenty more….
…. seek out things that are real and hard…. Gravitate towards things that are beautiful. Lean in to things you cannot understand…. Tell stories where trees are protagonists. Look at the lines on your palm and see that, like wood, your skin has grain.
Stony Soil Vermont 
Leaning against the door, rose-cheeked with cold, he posits that nothing happens without a reason, that the universe is never capricious. I set my wooden spoon on the counter.
I am mesmerized by that last sentence….where are we going with that? Is there a hidden meaning? A comment on things happening without a reason? A judgement on a capricious universe?
I have followed you for a couple of years and appreciate the hidden gems in your prose. “I set my wooden spoon on the counter”. Whether deliberate or not, I love it. As for me, I’ve had to face the hard fact that there are no reasons for the fates that befall us. Wishing you the best in the coming year!
September 2024 | Borderland Journal
I am once again moved by your post. I live in. and between, several cultures. If I were to summarize the agreements between them regarding the nature of the universe it would be: cause and effect happen and there is no blame. The idea that we somehow create our illnesses is a sadly privileged one. Still, it can be useful to be curious about what learning we might take from the experience of illness, just as we are curious about other events. You are right to be gentle and kind with yourself. There really is no blame.
Thanks for writing in…. I agree about cause and effect – and how complicated and sometimes unseen that can be. Appreciate your experience…..
Thanks for the links Brett! Sunday morning listening methinks!
PS I woke up to a bunch of snow that was supposed to be a dusting! It’s remarkable.
I know! This year, an actual real January!
I’m now 2 years into my cancer journey. A couple of thoughts, The first thing loved ones asked was why me? My reply was, why not me. Cancer sucks for anyone having to deal with it. My oncologist assured me, I did nothing to earn this dreadful disease. Sadly, I have the gene mutation for ovarian cancer. It is what took my mother from me. I am currently NED and so grateful for that. I’ve beaten the odds so far, and hope to continue to do so. Hold on to everything good in your ife, and as best you can, avoid the negative. Best of luck on your journey.
Hi Lauren,
Nice to hear from you and get a snippet of your story. Why not me? A really good question. Cancer is the great leveler, isn’t it? My aunt passed away a number of decades ago from ovarian cancer, although it apparently does not run in our genes. It’s a terrible disease. Here’s wishing you continued health – and your enthusiastic advice is greatly appreciated!
Go forward with as much joy as you can find.
Yes!
Well, first of all, 🌷good morning! Secondly, I don’t know what to take away from this post.. I mean, I don’t know if the younger man’s opinion wounded you, or caused you opposing and joyous thought (or both) — or if you saw it as a disguised defensive fear in him that it may actually be. I just hope you can laugh at cats today, and are heartily thinking about trees as protagonists. 💗
Good morning, too. His opinion did not wound or offend me at all… but did make me think. Here’s to a Sunday laughing at cats and other small things. 🙂
(Amen!)
I used to believe in random, until I had an experience that shifted my reality from the inside out. I think the more we see connecting threads, the more meaningful life is. Thank you for your writing- it inspires me.
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Sending prayers up and good vibes to you. ✨
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Your posts always give me something new to think about!
Happy New Year. I wanted to leave a brief note of praise for this post, which is so eloquently and sincerely shared with all of us. I especially love the image of our choice to shoulder along with stones in tow, soaked by rain that has nothing to do with our choices.
Thank you! ✨
Wow. Beautiful words. I have no words of my own except that your post moved me. My favorite line was, “But aren’t we all that way? Shouldering along with us the stones of our lives we’ve chosen, and the rain that’s fallen from the heavens and soaked us, too?” So poignant. I guess what I’ve learned in my short life is that life can be so, so cruel, but beauty manages to sneak its way in, too. Take care, my friend. My thoughts and prayers are with you.
I’m a fellow writer and blogger just trying to find her clan 🙂 Subscribed. I’d love to follow your journey, and for what it’s worth, I don’t think my stumbling across your blog was random at all.
Hi Jodi, thank you for reading and leaving this note. Hope I’m about to become part of your blogging clan. ✨
Most definitely
It’s a question I certainly asked my self when at 51 I was diagnosed with Myeloma. No one in my family ever had any cancers much less a blood cancer. Up till then I did all the right things, vegetarian, spiritual, Buddhist, Quaker, meditator on and on. But somewhere I realized none of that mattered. Blood is blood, and my blood had cancer cells. It was really just a misalignment of DNA cells and viola, cancer! Of course, after 20 years of treatment on and off, I’m much more philosophical. Back then I was hysterical. So, am I still spiritual? In a way, but now as an atheist I just see the world more factually,scientifically, based.
Hi Chris, thank you for reading and leaving this interesting note. The facts really do matter, but surely the gray context does, too…. Like you, though, I’m leaning heavily on facts.