From the first moment my wife discovered
she had breast cancer, there was a deafening silence from the men I know. Even
ones whose wives, mothers or girlfriends had breast cancer seemed to have
received a gag order from some Central Cancer Command and did little more than
mumble about the experience. Not one to shut up for any known reason, I started
this blog…That was four years ago – as time passed, people searching for
answers stumbled across my blog and checked out what I had to say. The
following entry appeared in June 2012…
Right after the
literal and economic “boom” of WWI, came the Roaring Twenties. Life was good,
coming together as Americans during The War Against The Kaiser had been
followed by the heady rush of becoming a World Power, and it looked like the
future was going to be bright, indeed.
Right after WWII
came the Fabulous Fifties when America could do no wrong and we invented
everything from hula hoops to the H-bomb and Elvis Presley.
The Great
Depression came crashing down on the heels of the Roaring Twenties and the
Fabulous Fifties were followed by the riots and assassinations of the
Tumultuous Sixties.
For me, the
bravery, positive outlook, and grand support of the Diagnosis, Surgery and Treatment
year has come crashing down around my ears as the Post-Cancer Crash. Chemo is
done, regular “How’s your wife doing this week?”s have dwindled to the
occasional, off-hand query usually briefly answered.
My pink
shoelaces are tattered and my wristband is dirty and faded. I am, quite
frankly, left feeling depressed. No one’s fault but my own as there appears to
be no more battle to fight. There’s no more heart-stopping terror to overcome.
And really? My wife is alive and hasn’t felt better in YEARS!
So what’s up
with me? I should be dancing on streets of gold, lolling about in Paradise,
praising God from the rooftops, the skyscraper tops. Instead, I’m feeling
quietly contemplative and a bit sad.
Ecclesiastes
3:1-9 talks about the fact that there are times in a person’s life that are
given over to various things. Perhaps the past year was “a time to kill
(cancer)...weep...be silent...war (on cancer)...hate (cancer)”.
In the same way
– and in a NOT BAD way, perhaps now is “a time to heal...build up…a time for
peace.” Perhaps now is the time to start growing again as well.
Perhaps now is a
time to come back to life again. Perhaps now is “a time to throw away” the
bitterness, anger and fear I’ve lived with for the past 18 months.
Take a deep
breath. Hold it. Now release. Repeat.
There’s a faint
smile on my face right now, so this must be the right thing to do...
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