Three Years Gone


Nothing, no person, no disease, and no organization or regime can bring down the human spirit. It bursts forth like flower bulbs in the springtime, up from a year of napping under the cold earth.

The essence of our spirit cannot be erased. Once we’ve etched our grooves into the human record, our souls songs cannot be undone.

We do not merely survive. Survival doesn’t require dreaming. Our experience enables our dreams. We dream in order to invent and build, not to tear down. We invent so we make the gift of life and living the one we have better.

And we must believe in the human spirit in order that we may seek the truth and create beauty for ourselves and bring hope to others, though we may not understand everything.

My life doesn’t need pity. And it’s unenviable. I may bluster. I may become afraid of a painful death brought on by metastatic disease. Yet still I believe in the power of love, of the written and spoken word, to heal. If you read between the lines of this post, written yesterday on my three year cancerversary, you’ll see it’s written in my own hand on a USPS priority mail address label as poetic medium requires no more than a way to write your heart down so your words may be heard by another human spirit. If the words do transport themselves through to another person, then the day is a happy one and a job’s well done.

Thank you for reading my posts, poetry, essays, rants, and my meandering mind on this blog. You all mean more to me than I could conjure the words to do my feelings Justice.

Peace, peace.

6 comments on “Three Years Gone”

  1. Your words are very inspiring and bring such comfort to one’s day. Thank you for sharing. Sending smiles your way ❤

    1. As are you, my triumphant beautiful sister. You overcome more than anyone should and you still smile and help anyone who needs help. It’s easier to give Help to those we don’t know well. The anguish of trying to help the people we love the most is the biggest weight we carry with us. It’s so heavy sometimes as we’ve both said, our shoulders just get so tired. Physically we just buckle under the weight but we get back up, now don’t we! I love you, too.

  2. I always appreciate your posts, but this one really grabbed me, with its spirit of triumph despite it all. Thank you so much for sharing your journey with us and, if you don’t mind the mushiness, I’m sending you a discreet little hug for your anniversary, your words, and your strength…

    1. Hug gladly accepted and returned, Brian.

      You know your posts bring me a huge laugh and I read and cherish them and your humor. I have to say I thought of you the other day when I was looking at a post on a museum of Victorian taxidermy in which there is a full on scene of a Victorian kitten wedding (google search those terms you should find it that way). The photos reminded me of something that might transpire in your insane Christmas town. I really look forward to seeing what you’ve been able to acquire this year to add to your huge collection. Thanks for your encouragement and for always liking my posts. You of all people keep me from curing my logorrhea.

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