I am smiling and jumping with excitement to share a note from my friend Tia.
As I wrote to Tia, thank you for giving helplessness a voice, I know that this will be helpful.
This is a shared experience and if we can be open to every voice we will have an amazing choir- that’s what I want.
Embrace it all, no man (woman) (transgendered/neutral) left behind.
Thank You, Thank You, Thank You Tia. When this is over we will go out for lobster.
Gus will stand in for anger and frustration:
"Hi Beautiful ... I cannot stop thinking about you. I stole your blog title and wrote ...
I'm sorry if the obscenities offend ... I wanted you to know.
Everyday Aha: From. Afar.
As I sit and re-read Fawna’s blogs for the millionth time, feeling like a stalker monitoring her page, I am struck by the “somethings” that are stirring inside me. Okay, not stirring, but like my six-year old says, “Mommy, it feels like there is a lobster in my tummy that keeps snapping its pinchers inside me. It hurts. I don't know if I'm mad or sad or worried”. So, for some unknown reason, I feel compelled to blog (not that I have my own) about these “lobsters” in my tummy whenever I creep Fawna’s page for an update.
“Everyday Aha: From Afar” – this title guides my writing at this very moment. The internet tab on my computer which reads “FaceBook” is something that I click on every ten minutes with Fawna’s page just to see if there is an update. This all started about two weeks ago when my BlackBerry lost every piece of data I had in it and none of it was recoverable. I sent out a mass email for my contacts (of which Fawna was one) to send me their information once again. As always, Fawna is the “first on the scene” and responded within mere moments to my “distress” – giving me every phone number that she thought I might need. I texted her later that week – suggesting coffee – with her replying that when she returned from her retreat, it was a plan in the works. Because Fawna seems to always be on these self-discovery retreats, I went on her FaceBook page to see what she was up to this time … thinking maybe she was learning some new skill with those rocks that people use for massage, some new meditation technique or a new idea for helping people …
I cried. From. Afar.
Since then, I have thought about Fawna every day – almost every hour of every day … I’m sure her loved ones think about her every millisecond of everyday … and those “somethings” just won’t stop going … damn lobsters. In an effort to put it out there “From Afar” and after being inspired by Dusty’s Blog: “How the Fuck do you think I’m doing”, I thought maybe it was time to share thoughts. From. Afar.
I don’t intend to make this blog about me but hopefully, some of these words are echoed by others. From. Afar.
Here we go … From. Afar. I think:
1. Really?!?! Again?!?! What the FUCK?!?!
Cancer? Yes, you! You are an asshole.
2. Fucking Bring IT!!!
Cancer? You chose the wrong lady. You are evil and bad and unfortunately for you – you are going to get your ass kicked again … I’m all for watching you shrink and shrivel. For the benefit of us all, go the FUCK away quickly … and stay gone. A’right?
3. Pick on Someone Else!
Can’t you see, Cancer? Fawna is NEEDED, LOVED, ESSENTIAL and BEAUTIFUL!! She is everything you aren’t. You sneak the fuck up on people … impose yourself where you aren’t wanted and on the people that deserve (not that anyone does) you the LEAST. Hear me? Fuck off!
4. What does one say? From. Afar?
As a social worker for two decades, I am supposed to figure out the words that have meaning and are appropriate and make things “better”. It’s like wanting to put on a band-aid, buy a big fucking lollipop and a pony to make it all “okay”. I cannot. I cannot make it better (meaning make the cancer go away), I cannot find the words to tell Fawna how it feels to see her body hurting (From.Afar), I cannot find the logic to understand when Fawna tell us everything is okay, that she feels good, that she is peaceful and happy and not want to yell out loud - obscenities! From. Afar.
5. Is Fawna really okay? From. Afar?
I have the qualitative opportunity to know Fawna and her family over the years – although quantitatively, have not had the time that lots of others have spent with her. Fawna, the epitome of grace, kindness, love and “putting everyone else before herself”, would tell everyone that she is okay. But is she really? That’s my question and I may not have the context that others have to accurately know. From. Afar. I search her pictures, her eyes, wonder what her thoughts are when she is alone … and wonder if she is really okay? Really? Okay? Truth be known, I think she might be doing better than the rest of us.
6. There are NO other options. From. Close. And. Afar.
There are no options. Just like there weren’t when Fawna first battled this demon. If anyone in this world has the spirit and love to overtake this beast, it’s Fawna. She is love … LOVE … and there is nothing else more powerful in this world to erase the bad … all of us combined, there is NO other option.
7. All of my Wishes. From. Afar.
Fawna? You have all of my wishes, my hopes and my most pleading prayers that I’ve saved up and never used. You have all of my dreams that I missed wishing on that falling star … you have my warmest of hugs, my most pleading and hoping of tears, my respect, my admiration for your strength and grace … and all of the blessing that the Grandfather’s and God will bring.
Love. From. Afar.