Yesterday, one of my doctors made an emergency request for an MRI for me. Everything rose to the surface again- fear of the unknown, etc. The following is a late night conversation I had with my husband. I realize how bizarre it is to have typed it up, but I believe it is important enough to share, so bear with me ;)
Me:
'I'm sorry for how I've been acting today. I feel off; I guess I have for a while now. It's like I am silently preparing for something. I feel restless. I'm constantly cooking, crafting, writing, creating, and I don't think I could stop if I wanted to. I need to be productive and take on every single project I ever wanted to complete. And when I hug Bu, or look at her, or think about her, I could not appreciate her more. I love her profoundly. I'm like that with everyone- I tell everyone how much they mean to me- I'm weird about it. I have left myself open for all to see. I talk about my joys and pains in life with astonishing ease. I've looked back at apology messages I wrote to nearly 50 people last year- ranging in seriousness from things like a silly misunderstanding with someone in high school, to the regretful ways I have hurt people emotionally. When I was diagnosed with Cancer, I immediately set about making things right with everyone, including myself. I remember Jeannine telling me a story about a man who had all of his dirty secrets published after he died, and I felt sorry for him. I wished he had found a peace in his life before he was gone, as I feel those are the opportunities in life to just be genuine. When you have things weighing you down and you are operating- even unintentionally- from a wounded place I don't believe you have the focus you need in life. And the more you share with people, the more you are able to experience with other humans. Since this whole thing started, I am left with an obvious vulnerability about me, and perhaps because of that, I feel people are reflective with me- sharing trauma they have felt. I have such bizarre and significant conversations with strangers about their biggest lessons in life, or most enlightened understandings. The point, I guess, is that I have lived how I wanted to live. I've met some amazing people and learned so much. Even being acquainted with this perfection I feel as a family unit right now- I have just always wanted to feel this functional. And safe. I know it's a strange thing to say, but I feel complete. And it kind of scares me. To feel I have such an intimacy with life and to know who I am so deeply and to feel that I could be ready for this part to be over is so entirely... frightening. But beautiful.
Richard:
'It's been hard to watch you lately. So determined to keep busy and create. My Grandpa did the same thing when he was dying of lung cancer, always making things. It scares the Hell out of me.'
Me:
'I'm sorry. Naturally, that would be difficult. I'm not trying to scare you, and I won't give up hope. If there is a treatment available, I will always take it. I guess I am trying to be realistic about the inevitable. It doesn't even matter when it happens, but it does matter if I feel I have done all I feel I should do. And, I've thought so much about arrangements I would make. All of the people who we are closest to, all of the people Bu will be guided by. I know Bu will be okay- I have poured all of my life out into all that I do, and have left so many clues as to who I am along the way. It feels weird to say it out loud, almost like I am tempting fate to even dare mutter about it.'
Richard: (bursts out laughing).
'Yeah! No shit!'
Me:
'I want a BlessingWay when I die. I want to celebrate it. I feel it is important to celebrate death the way we celebrate life. To embrace it, to accept it whole. I want a ceremony.'
Richard:
'It is a profound thing to be able to do that, if you are aware you are going to die. To have that ability to prepare in that way.'
Megan:
'I've often been thankful for the opportunity to be aware of it, grateful for the good fortune to have found this peace. ...I don't mean to sound self-righteous, you know.'
Richard:
'I know.'
Me:
'Good. I don't want to come across like I feel I am perfect in any way- I am painfully aware I am not. But I feel I have achieved self-acceptance, now that I finally began living authentically. Exposing my growing pains in public at every opportunity I can find, you know.'
Richard:
'I feel the same way. I have done things in life that I should not have done. But it feels good to accept myself.'
