I cry as I write this, listening to Loreena McKennitt and watching my son play with his dinosaurs in a giant pile of clean, beautiful soil that will be our garden. It is funny, now that I know I have cancer everything feels so much more precious to me, even a single drop of blood. I don't dwell too much on my new state of health, or lack of it, but it does cross my mind in a melancholy sort of way.
There have been many times in my life when I sat quietly and stared into the reality of my own death. But I have this name now and I can feel my death walk with me, beside me, in a tangible, peaceful way. It is all unknown, every day, I know that. But one of my possible moments is now named and that is o.k., it's all precious, every drop. I won't waste a moment of it.
Today, washing old flower pots I cut my finger. It was a quick, sharp, deep, tiny cut but it bled. A single, large drop of my blood fell. That is me, that is my life, I thought. I have this big fear, an even bigger sadness, but wrapped around all of that I have this deep sense of magic. The beautiful gift of life, the sacredness of death, there is a beauty in it. We all have to pass that way, I am just so conscious of it now. I will, hopefully, have many more years of this Good Life but for now, processing this new state, I am somehow able to embrace my death. I love life, I love my home, my family, my friends, my chores, me.
My husband returned from his trip yesterday. He was happy to see me, I was deeply grateful for him too. Every time he hugs me now I cry. A deep, childlike, choking sob...of happiness, of love, of sadness, of fear, of gratefulness...like a long, slow goodbye.