My slightly scatty ability to self-analyze seems to detect a liminal shift in my stage of cancer recovery. I'm rapidly approaching delirious joy, though I will try to keep the delirious part dialed down. It may be some kind of post-chemical/radiated response of my body and brain, but honestly: colors are brighter, music and words more moving, air smells amazing, cooking and eating bring pure pleasure, and everyone is beautiful. Not just in their own way; really beautiful. Cranky people who formerly drove me nuts are simply not, even when they are selfish and neurotic; I figure they need a smile even more than most. If my son has dropped to a B+ in English, so be it - this fall, he learned to be a distance runner who constantly improved his time, and now he is busy living his dream of being in a pit orchestra for a musical; he can pull up his grade later. But most of all, he is beautiful: a fully formed human who came to earth via me, and light shines out of him. My husband is beautiful, heart and soul; light shines from him, too, and music. My friends and family are better than any riches on earth, and they are beautiful, light shining from them all, lighting my way through this adventure, this life.
My gratitude for life is off the charts, and this joy, should it prove sustainable, may be more powerful than the Tamoxifen, could be the secret to long term cancer survival, learned late in life, but better late than never.
No comments:
Post a Comment