Traversing my inner space wearing the lens of metastatic disease, my inner eye wanders into dark places at times. The glasses have me reading invisibilities into ideas that have no real importance. Ideas such as what my life’s purpose what could I possibly serve the world when at the moment I was diagnosed with #metastatic breast cancer three years ago, my needs far outweigh my ability to give. Many days my questions return only an inner sigh of response. My contributions and defining myself and my roles becomes so foggy, so unclear to me.… Read More Peace, Peace: our universe of caregivers
Yearning for my partner’s support and the kind of tender and caring love many of which many metastatic sisters write and blog about, I now look over at him, home in bed, and find one whose dark, inky emotions remain locked away inside his heart, like the stars behind clouds in a dark night sky. He lays there disengaged, thinking to himself about things that cause long bouts of sighing, and the simmering anger of so many men who find themselves bitten by such disorders.… Read More One Fresh Hell, Hold the Tomatoes
Riding passenger side snapping right, I’m down in front stealing long exposures. From the back seat our youth sits Mocking us with instant polaroids. Destroyed pictures of minutes and memory Precious and precarious slip a stone At once here and at once gone. Right under the driver breaks hard and higher Up another mile, silently… Read More Eventide
How does one learn to reason with depression? I’d like to share with you a story about a confused partner who after the passing of her arbitrary three-year deadline falls into s state of incredible aftermath. She unreasonably and unfortunately becomes inconsolable with wave after wave of ugly accusations hurled from across a house she lives in with this depressed man who she no longer knows, or even knows what she feels for him anymore. … Read More And now, Ms. Cancer and Mr. Depression
Ladies wearing smart suits
Tahitian pearl chokers
Rhinestone bangle bracelets
Bengal tiger-print hot pants.
A real mistress
Ends in a whisper
Her knowledge sits stuck
In the back of a cab.
Like all irrelevant souvenirs.… Read More Follow the Queen
Churchill knew that bravery comes not only from a wellspring inside, but from the community with whom we share a common connection. In his case the whole of Britain, in my case a small subset of the blogosphere. … Read More Never, never, never give up.*
#Stage4cancer brings to mind a place a movie might portray. For instance the inescapable slow walking monster approaches my house and I hear the ugly abhorrent thing rapping, scraping on my door. Perhaps, more subtly, one dark and stormy night, the wind kicks up frightening me with a tree branch running its claws along my windows. Am I dreaming in color of the darkest places my consciousness has to offer on tonight’s mind menu?… Read More Canferatu, The Monster at My Door
Depression and cancer. The locks to my prison, to which keys do not exist; there’s no cure, and there’s no future with happiness together as a team, the team I really counted on – but as Einstein said not all things that can be counted, should.… Read More My Loves Electric (Not Anymore)
We all fall down. The ground grows smaller, As I pass the Earth, Becoming her daughter. Funny to stand today, Eclipsing the sun. My books marked still, On page one.… Read More Maps and Legends
Each life writing a page.
For a bound legacy,
Marked by birth and death.… Read More Eclipse