Two roads...

When a crisis comes along, roads diverge, reflection is inevitable  – as when my late husband died suddenly, and five years of achieving shared dreams diverged in one horrifying minute.  After reflecting, I sold the farm, boarded the horses, moved to Annapolis, and went back for a St John’s grad degree in the Great Books, seeking answers to the Great Questions: the good, the meaning of life, higher powers, purpose, desires, reality – all good stuff worthy of reading, sharing the Great Conversation with like minded scholars. Life-altering results ensued: a vocation, from vocatus, a calling. 

This cancer allows me two privileges I didn’t have then: I can control the process of the crisis, rather than being the victim of the uncontrollable, and I am privileged to have at hand the love and support of both my son and my husband, two deeply kind men who feed my soul, stretch my mind, play me music, and make me laugh. I have a flow of kindness coming from the most loving of friends and family, lifting me in myriad ways: flowers, food, handmade hats, silky scarves, gifts of prayers, poetry and service, baskets and bags of comfort and joy. I can take all this rich privilege and help myself to heal.  I use "privilege" intentionally - as defined: "something regarded as a rare opportunity and bringing particular pleasure."

And that, as Frost says, has made all the difference.