Bad News!

It is always difficult to be the bearer of bad news about ones own health.  But there you have it!  So here it is… 

A CT scan this past week has confirmed that cancer has returned to my sacrum.  While it comes as no great surprise, given the increasing pain lately, it still comes as a great disappointment.

The recovery I was enjoying over the Summer and early Fall included some of my best periods of health and energy I have enjoyed for the past three years.  Pam and I were even beginning to indulge in something we’ve rarely done over the past eight years, anticipating and planning for the future!  Alas!  Such dreaming is not yet to be.

The situation as it currently stands is that I am able to walk only very short distances. I have a wheelchair in the condo and am able to use it for short local outings (accompanied).  I am also limited in terms of how long I can sit upright.  For the most part my days are bed-ridden unless broken by an appointment of one type or another. 

Treatment Plan:

With the retirement of my Oncologist, Dr. Paul Klimo, from the Lion’s Gate Clinic, we have decided to consolidate my care at the BC Cancer Agency.  The Vancouver Centre of the BCCA is a comprehensive cancer care facility where I will have chemo, radiation, pain management, and palliative care all under one roof.  My new medical oncology team is Drs. Cheung and Albarack.  Pam and I met them on Wednesday and came away with a strong sense that whatever lies ahead, we will be well supported by compassionate and competent medical care.  

Over the next few weeks I will have another scan, a meeting with my radiation oncologist, a meeting with the pain management team and another appointment with Dr. Albarack.  By then we will have a pretty good idea of what sort of treatment options are, or are not, available to me at this stage. 

Visits:

Over the past years I have enjoyed frequent visits from a wide range of family, friends, and colleagues.  These visits have often included scenic walks in Stanley Park or along the Seawall; lunch dates, picnics, or movies; and great conversation.  Unfortunately, many of these activities are now precluded by my mobility and sitting limitations.

I would appreciate weekday visitors but we need to work around the parkade renovations, which currently subject my condo to a relentless 8-hr barrage of jackhammering.  The contractors do usually have a predictable break for about 45 minutes at 2:00pm.  So if you are interested in a short visit and that time slot works for you send me a note.

Wheelchair walks will be a possibility when the weather improves as well.

Peace and blessings... Rob; in Vancouver

"Life is short.  And we do not have long to

gladden the hearts of those who walk the way with us.  

So let us be swift to love.  And let us make haste to show kindness." 

Henri Amiel

John Tinker: Rest in Peace

I lost a dear friend, and fellow pilgrim on the cancer journey, last night.  John died peacefully at home, free of pain, and in the arms of his beloved partner, Adrian.  In his last few days he was remarkably free of the pain that had racked his body for the last several months.

John was a deep thinker, an avid reader, a gifted writer, an inspiring teacher, a good friend, a passionate gardener, and a fun and faithful partner.  Others could say more, but this much, at least, I know to be true.

John and I met in cyberspace through the American Cancer Society's online support network. John, his partner Adrian, and I made a quick connection and found that we were bound in part by the common cards this dread disease had dealt us.  John and I both had colon cancer that had spread to our sacrum, the lower vertebrae of the spine, the "Holy Bone".  A painful and deadly recurrence.

Our relationships grew to include personal e-mails between John, Adrian, my wife Pam, and myself.  In time I called John and we began to converse about symptoms and treatment options on the phone.  Finally, last April, Pam and I traveled to San Francisco, where we were met by a smiling John and Adrian at the airport (SFO), and where we enjoyed much of their company over a wonderful 5-day visit.  Highlights of our visit included a roadtrip to Point Reyes park and a pizza dinner at their beautifully restored home and garden.

In addition to sharing a common ailment, John and I shared much in common in our approach to living with cancer.  John engaged the experience of living with a life-threatening disease deeply.  (John engaged all of the experiences of life deeply!)   After much thought, wrestling, and a transformative hypnosis session, John came to the point of understanding that is best summed up in his own words...  "I cannot control the disease; I can control how I experience the disease."

John lived deeply and joyously through his life with cancer.  He focused on what was "life-giving", which for John was his relationship with Adrian, his garden, his writing, his friends, and "Hogarth", John and Adrian's lively boxer.  This is not to say that he did not have times of deep pain and suffering.  He most certainly did, both physically and psychologically.  Yet he was able to reflect on such periods, write of them, and ultimately transcend them.  Where some might become embittered and resentful, John remained gracious and loving. 

John shared some of his writing on the experience of living with cancer with me.  His writing of this experience was detailed in its descriptions, insightful in its analysis, and graceful in its conclusions.  I hope some of it finds its way to publication.  It is certainly most worthy of it.

The picture of John above is not complete.  It is cropped from a larger picture and a larger context...

... the context of love.  I have not known John, apart from Adrian.  Together they lived a rich life of creativity and love.  Their home and garden is a living expression of such creativity and love.

Robert Louis Stevenson said that... "Life is not a matter of holding good cards, but of playing a poor hand well."   John was dealt a bad hand with a deadly cancer, but he played it graciously well.

God be with you John Tinker... until we meet again...

My deepest and heartfelt condolences go out to Adrian and to John's great circle of colleagues, family, and friends.

Peace and blessings...  Rob; in Vancouver

"Despite all of this, we focus on good things.   

As I write, Adrian and I are sipping champagne.  

 Hogarth is nestled up with us, and life is good."

John Tinker

"Filaments of Life"

In "Late Nights on Air" Elizabeth Hay describes a poignant scene in which Elanor confronts the reality of the sudden and tragic death of her new-found love Ralph.  The scene is witnessed by Harry.

“... Harry stood for a moment watching her.  Her head looked like the heaviest of peonies after a rain, her body tilted forward over Ralph's.  And the thought came to him that it wasn’t just one person who had died, but all the filaments of life connecting that person to everyone he’d ever known and to every place he’d ever been.” Elizabeth Hay

I am drawn in particular to the phrase "Filaments of Life" that Elizabeth uses to describe the connections that exist between ourselves and all the people and places we have known.  As I enter more deeply into this experience of living with a terminal illness I find that I am becoming much more conscious of the "filaments of life" that connect me to family, friends, colleagues, and the many hundreds of people with whom I have had a connection through my life as a minister. Likewise I find myself remembering the many places and events to which I am connected.

I had an opportunity to reflect on some of these "filaments of life" while at a family reunion in Ontario this week.  I spent a lot of the time reconnecting with family who I see only every few years.  We are spread right across the country.  To be gathered with extended family covering three generations gives me the sense of the significant connections that give rise to my family identity.

In addition to enjoying quality time with my living relations I was able to commune with my ancestors by way of a pilgrimage to the ancient family burial grounds of the Preston family at St. Mary's Anglican Church in Lifford, Ontario.  At St. Mary's I was able to visit the graves of 5 generations of ancestors from my Grandfather Preston (on my Mom's side) on up to my Great, Great, Great, Great Grandfather and Grandmother.  In remembering their respective lives I was able to imagine the "filaments of life" that extend from me through them and to the places they lived and the events that brought them to Canada and shaped our destinies here.

It is quite remarkable that through this long lineage I am connected to the County Armagh in Northern Ireland, and through Isaac Preston's military service I am connected to the United Irish Rebellion of 1797!  Likewise through the lives of Isaac and his wife Sarah I am connected to the War of 1812 as the cause of my family's eventually migration to Upper Canada from the US, where they were not welcome as British Loyalists.  Through this lineage I am also connected to the rebellion of 1937-38 and the Fenian raids that plagued the settlers of Upper Canada in the 1860's.  Through the life and service of my Great Grandfather, Colonel J.A.V. Preston I am connected to the Northwest Rebellion of 1885 and the First Great War. Whew...  and that is only in the last seven generations or so!

This is not to boast of ancestral achievement.   By no means.  Indeed there are many causes for which my ancient family fought which by today's reckoning I would see as unjust or even oppressive.  Be that as it may, we have to accept our history as it is, for better and for worse!  And we need to remember that when we look at history, we do so from the vantage point of standing on our ancestors shoulders!
For myself, I celebrate the peace that exists between Catholics and Protestants both here and in North Ireland; and the peace that has existed between Canada and the US for almost 200 years; and the reconciliation efforts underway with the Metis and First Nations communities in Canada.  I give thanks that none of these relationships are a cause to bear arms today.  Alas that they ever were!


"Filaments of Life" indeed have an historic element!  When I think of the incredible lives of not just these ancestors but all of the diverse relations that have given rise to the life in me I am thoroughly amazed!  It is truly amazing to imagine all of the random events that have their culmination in a particular life, a particular relationship, or a particular event.

What can we do but live in awe, in wonder, and in thanksgiving!

Remembering and reflecting... Rob; in Vancouver

"Our soul must perform two duties.
The one is that we must reverently wonder and be surprised.
The other is that we must gently let go and let be. 
Always taking pleasure in God."
Julian of Norwich

Hospice Care - Some Wise Words

Brooks is a friend, and fellow semi-colon, I met through the American Cancer Society Cancer Survivors Network (CSN).  He has many years of working with people in "hospice" care.  Brooks has a wonderful capacity to translate his experience of life into a wisdom that both consoles and inspires us.   He recently had this to say regarding "hospice" care...

"People who choose hospice are not giving up hope, they are in fact redefining it. Though there may no longer be a possibility of curing their illness, they redirect their hope into mending and restoring relationships, spending quality time with those they love, and finding peace and comfort.

Choosing hospice doesn't mean choosing death, it means choosing to live life to the fullest. Usually once someone has chosen hospice, they have been through a lot already. Multiple hospital admissions, chemotherapy and radiation, and invasive tests and treatments can leave patients feeling sick and tired. By choosing hospice, they have decided to focus on the quality of their lives rather than on the quantity.

I've seen many people who have chosen hospice use their time, once consumed by doctors appointments and hospital stays, to take family vacations, travel to places they've always wanted to see, and enjoy the company of loved ones at home. These aren't people who have given up hope or given up on life. These are people who are living life to the fullest."

-------------------

What Brooks shares also resonates with my own pastoral experience.

A particular challenge for the person living in the advanced stages of cancer is, “knowing when to let go”. It seems to me that in the cancer journey there is a time to fight the "dragon" with all of the weapons we can muster. I've also seen that there can come a time when it's helpful to "let go", so that the final stage can be one of peace and dignity and not one of prolonged pain and suffering.

"Letting go" is not giving up. Death is not defeat or failure. It’s not about winning or losing, but rather about accepting the very imminent reality of our mortality. My experience has been that when the terminally ill reach the place of "letting go" a deep peace follows for the individual, their family, and their friends. Discerning the time of this transition is deeply personal and needs to be respected by caregivers and family alike.

Peace and blessings... Rob; in Vancouver

"When I find myself in times of trouble mother Mary comes to me,

speaking words of wisdom, let it be."

The Beatles

Stages of Grief - Elisabeth Kubler Ross

I first started working with Kubler-Ross's "stages of grief" back when I began my life as a minister in Port Simpson in 1992.  I've returned to it often and still find it to be a helpful way of understanding grief and loss.  Kubler-Ross dedicated her life to working with the dying, the ill, the lost, and the bereaved.  She has left a great legacy of wisdom.  Wisdom which is helpful when "Living on The Edge".

The following interpretation is with thanks to Alan Chapman. 

-------------------------

Five Stages of Grief

(Based on the Grief Cycle model first published in On Death & Dying, Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, 1969. Interpretation by Alan Chapman 2006-2009.)

            Also known as the 'grief cycle', it is important to bear in mind that Kübler-Ross did not intend this to be a rigid series of sequential or uniformly timed steps. It's not a process as such, it's a model or a framework. There is a subtle difference: a process implies something quite fixed and consistent; a model is less specific - more of a shape or guide. By way of example, people do not always experience all of the five 'grief cycle' stages. Some stages might be revisited. Some stages might not be experienced at all. Transition between stages can be more of an ebb and flow, rather than a progression. The five stages are not linear; neither are they equal in their experience. People's grief, and other reactions to emotional trauma, are as individual as a fingerprint.

            The model recognizes that people have to pass through their own individual journey of coming to terms with death and bereavement, etc., after which there is generally an acceptance of reality, which then enables the person to cope.

            Again, while Kübler-Ross's focus was on death and bereavement, the grief cycle model is a useful perspective for understanding our own and other people's emotional reaction to personal trauma and change, irrespective of cause. 

1 - Denial         

Denial is a conscious or unconscious refusal to accept facts, information, reality, etc., relating to the situation concerned. It's a defense mechanism and perfectly natural. Some people can become locked in this stage when dealing with a traumatic change that can be ignored. Death of course is not particularly easy to avoid or evade indefinitely.

2 - Anger          

Anger can manifest in different ways. People dealing with emotional upset can be angry with themselves, and/or with others, especially those close to them. Knowing this helps keep us detached and non-judgmental when experiencing the anger of someone who is very upset.

3 - Bargaining              

Traditionally the bargaining stage for people facing death can involve attempting to bargain with whatever God the person believes in. People facing less serious trauma can bargain or seek to negotiate a compromise. For example "Can we still be friends?.." when facing a break-up. Bargaining rarely provides a sustainable solution, especially if it's a matter of life or death.

4 - Depression             

Also referred to as preparatory grieving. In a way it's the dress rehearsal or the practice run for the 'aftermath' although this stage means different things depending on whom it involves. It's a sort of acceptance with emotional attachment. It's natural to feel sadness and regret, fear, uncertainty, etc. It shows that the person has at least begun to accept the reality.

5 - Acceptance             

Again this stage definitely varies according to the person's situation, although broadly it is an indication that there is some emotional detachment and objectivity. People dying can enter this stage a long time before the people they leave behind, who must necessarily pass through their own individual stages of dealing with the grief.

(Based on the Grief Cycle model first published in On Death & Dying, Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, 1969.  Interpretation by Alan Chapman 2006-2009.)

-------------------------

Personally, I live in and out of all of these places, and more, on a regular basis.  My cancer journey began in August 2004 with a diagnosis of stage 4 colon cancer, I've had a couple of serious recurrences, and now live with a persistent and painful presence of cancer in my very bone.  Alas!  There seems to be no escaping it!  

Not to stay focused on the negative.  My journey has been, and continues to be, filled with many experiences of great joy, deep peace, and real hope.  These things go hand in hand with the otherwise "afflictive" emotions that together form the complex emotional climate of my heart and soul. I find that I can be more authentic in my experiences of the many good things in life when I am also honest and authentic with my very real grief. 

Peace and blessings... Rob; in Vancouver

"For those who seek to understand it, death is a highly creative force. 

The highest spiritual values of life can originate from the thought and study of death."
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

Twenty Faces of Grief: Mitch Carmody

Video Link

 ---------------------------

Mitch Carmody

http://www.heartlightstudios.net/home

Death Awareness

David Kuhl is a Vancouver doctor, researcher, and the author of "What Dying People Want: Practical Wisdom for the End of Life".   David's book is based on research that he did with people who were living with a terminal illness.  "David Kuhl has peeled back the cover on the inner experience of living with dying. What Dying People Want synthesizes the wisdom of ancient mythology and insights from depth psychology with real-life perspectives of people living in the long shadow of death.  Kuhl's message is brimming with hope.  This book has relevance for us all."  Ira Byock. M.D. author of "Dying Well"

In his book David speaks of "time and anxiety" and suggests the following exercise as a way coming to grips with the proximity of death in our lives.

Instructions:  Adapted from “What Dying People Want” by David Kuhl pp 29-30

1. Think of the line above as representing your lifetime. Place an X on the line to show where you believe you are at present. Once you have done this take note of your feelings. Do you have a sense of relief? Of anxiety? Of fear? What else comes up for you?
2. Think of six significant events in your life. Number these events 1 through 6 and place the numbers on the line. Again, take note of your emotions as you recall these events.
3. Consider the line between X and DEATH. How would you like to live this period? Is there anything special you would like to do? Choose six significant events that you would like to “fit in” before the end of your life. Number these events 1 through 6, and place the numbers on the line.

I have worked with this exercise twice now since I was diagnosed. Once in the Fall of 2004 and again this Summer.  On each occasion I have found myself placing the X fairly near to the end of the line.  I have found it helpful each time, both in assessing what has been important in my life and in determining how to live with what time I have left.  It is interesting for me to note that I have now lived much longer than what I had anticipated shortly after my diagnosis in 2004.

There have been times during the past 6 years where I have enjoyed the sense of a much longer "future horizon".   These were times when I was able to make plans and commitments that went years into the future.  Whilst in the midst of lengthy periods of remission I have even believed, at times, that I might live out a normal life-span.  Regrettably this is much less so now.  With each recurrence I am jolted back to reality and made to realize again that "life is short"!

David asks his readers to imagine a scenario where you have just learned that you have a terminal illness and only 6 to 12 months left to live.  You now place an X very near to the end of the life-line above.  He then asks... 

1. Would you live differently?   
2. Starting when?   
3. Would you care as much what other people think about you or about what you do, how you live?   
4. How would you fill your time?

Good questions!

Peace and blessings... Rob; in Vancouver

"Life is short.  And we do not have long to gladden the hearts of those who walk the way with us.  So let us be swift to love.  And let us make haste to show kindness." Henri Amiel

"Living on the Edge"

For the past 6 years I've felt as though I have been living on the edge of death.  Or perhaps the edge of life, depending on how you look at it.  Either way, living with metastatic cancer is "living on the edge".  I tend not to share many of my thoughts about this dimension of the journey.  It is not the kind of thinking that people normally want to engage in.  But it is the kind of thinking that late-stage cancer survivors are drawn to.  At least occasionally.

I can't imagine any cancer survivor who hasn't delved a little into the "existential questions" of life and death.  For those of us with metastatic or recurrent cancers, these questions become more pressing.  To avoid them is to live in denial of our mortality.

Henri Nouwen offers up the following as food for thought...

"Is death something so terrible and absurd that we are better off not thinking or talking about it? Or... 
Is it possible to befriend our dying gradually and live open to it?  Trusting that we have nothing to fear.  
Is it possible to prepare for death with the same attentiveness that our parents had in preparing for our birth?"   
Henri Nouwen "Our Greatest Gift"

Beginning in July, I will have the opportunity to explore these and other questions in a new program I am facilitating at InspireHealth, Vancouver's integrated cancer care center. "Living on the Edge" will be a small support group for "late-stage" cancer survivors.  Themes explored will include: facing death; accepting our mortality; getting the most out of THIS life; doing what is life-giving; finding friends for the journey; engaging family and friends; and life after death, to name but a few.

So, over the next few months, I will be using this space to share some of my own personal reflections on this aspect of the cancer journey.  Please do not be alarmed or think that I am feeling any closer to the end of MY journey.  I am not! The truth is I have been living with this awareness of the "proximity of death" for most of the past 6 years. Much of what I'll be sharing here will come from what has been on my mind from time to time over the past several years, the "unpublished" pages of my journal.

If you're interested you can start by reading some of my previous posts on death and dying...  here.

Be well... Rob; in Vancouver

“There is no cure for birth and death,
save to enjoy the interval.”

George Santayana

On Suffering

Life is “dukkha”! Life is suffering! Herein lies the first noble truth in the Buddhist worldview. To live is to experience some manner of suffering.

Most of the world’s great philosophical and religious traditions attempt to deal with the reality of suffering and the many questions it raises. What causes suffering? How can we make sense of it? How do we overcome it, transcend it, or at least live with grace in the face of it?

“What is the noble truth of suffering? Birth is suffering, aging is suffering and sorrow and lamentation, pain, grief and despair are suffering.” Buddha

---------------

Suffering has many faces; physical pain, illness, cancer, aging, and death; the individual or collective experience of violence, oppression, social injustice and inequality; stress and conflict in relationships, grief at the loss of a loved one, and anguish in parenting; unfulfilled dreams and expectations. Take your pick. The experience of some form of suffering in our lives is inescapable, try as we might to avoid it.

Franciscan priest and teacher, Richard Rohr, has said that one of the common denominators in all human suffering is the experience that we are powerless; we have been overwhelmed by circumstances and events beyond our power to control. The ancient psalms of lament often expressed this with words like... “I sink in deep mire where there is no foothold. I have come into deep waters, and the flood sweeps over me…”

One of the other thoughts that Richard shares about pain and suffering is… “In many ways, spirituality is about what we do with our pain. And the truth is, if we don't transform it, we will transmit it.” What Richard speaks of, and what we’ve all seen on many occasions, is the unresolved grief and pain of an individual, or of a group, transmitted through acts of anger, hatred, and violence towards others. Simone Weil puts it simply this way... “A hurtful act is the transference to others of the degradation which we bear in ourselves.”

We also see many examples of people who have endured horrible suffering and yet who have found ways to transform their pain and affliction into wisdom and grace. Elie Wiesel, holocaust survivor…

“I have learned two lessons in my life: first, there are no sufficient literary, psychological, or historical answers to human tragedy, only moral ones. Second, just as despair can come to one another only from other human beings, hope, too, can be given to one only by other human beings.”

----------------

"Breathe in suffering...

...Breathe out compassion."

Rob; in Vancouver

“Although the world is full of suffering,

it is also full of the overcoming of it.”

Helen Keller

To Everything There is a Season

"To everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven…A time to be born and a time to die…” Ecclesiastes

 

In the course of my life as a minister I have spent much time in the presence of the dying and the bereaved. The names of those I have accompanied through these stages are written in my journals and their stories inspire my life and ministry. I believe that to walk with someone through the final stages of life is one of the most sacred experiences we can have.

From a spiritual perspective, "palliative", or "end-of-life", care is very much a service of “accompaniment”. The word accompaniment really names it well when you look at the Latin roots com-panis, "with bread". To accompany is to “break bread with”. It is to walk the journey with another as a companion for a particular and significant stage of life. When I remember those who have accompanied me in the difficult stages of my journey, I think of the following qualities that I value in them:

• availability and commitment;
• an ability to be a “non-anxious" presence;
• honesty, humility, and compassion;
• a capacity to both listen and reflect;
• a comfort level with silence;
• a sense of humor; and
• a certain wisdom that comes from experience.

It is also important to me to have a person who shares somewhat of my spiritual orientation. In that way we can use a common language of symbol, story and prayer.

----------------------------

A particular challenge for the person living in the advanced stages of cancer is, “knowing when to let go”.  It seems to me that in the cancer journey there is a time to fight the "dragon" with all of the weapons we can muster. I've also seen that there can come a time when it's helpful to "let go", so that the final stage can be one of peace and dignity and not one of prolonged pain and suffering.

"Letting go" is not giving up. Death is not defeat or failure. It’s not about winning or losing, but rather about accepting the very imminent reality of our mortality. My experience has been that when the terminally ill reach the place of "letting go" a deep peace follows for the individual, their family, and their friends. Discerning the time of this transition is deeply personal and needs to be respected by caregivers and family alike.

-------------------------

End-of-life care belongs to the family. It is another area of medicine which is being reclaimed through patient and family empowerment and education. Many hospitals and communities now have progressive Palliative Care programs that help our loved ones through the final stages of life with dignity and respect.

In Canada, Dr. David Kuhl has written an insightful book on palliative care. “What Dying People Want: Practical Wisdom for the End of Life” is an excellent account of David’s 15 year experience of palliative care in Vancouver. In it he addresses such issues as: Time and Anxiety; Bad News; Physical Pain; Life Review; Speaking the Truth; Self-Realization; and Transcendence.

In the US, Dr. Ira Byock has written and advocated extensively on end-of-life care. His website, http://www.dyingwell.org/, has numerous helpful resources and an excellent synopsis of the “Developmental Landmarks and Taskwork for the End of Life”. It is helpful reading if you, or a loved one, are facing end-of-life issues.

In peace... Rob; in Vancouver

"I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity". Gilda Radner

originally posted in July 2007

Remembering Helen and Mark

This Sunday I remember two friends who have died of cancer in this past week.  Helen, a wonderful woman from St. Stephen's and Mark, aka "Limey", a "cyber friend" and fellow "semicolon" from my online cancer community.

Helen was a nurse, wife, mother, grandmother and stalwart friend to many at St. Stephen's.  She loved her summers on the boat with family, "Guiding", making pies with the "Holy Rollers", her family, and especially her granddaughters.  When you went to Helen's house you always knew there were kids around.  Maybe not at the moment, but recently or soon again.  Helen and I shared this dread disease for the 3 years I've known her and it often came up in our visits.  She lived with incredible grace, dignity, and a sense of humour.

Mark was a life partner to Earl, a devoted Dad, a beloved son and a friend to many including those in the colorectal cancer community where he was known as "Limey".  Like Helen, he loved the water and boating.  He, too, lived with incredible grace, dignity, and a sense of humour, even in the midst of great suffering and hardship on account of a relentless disease.

I share these brief words from Limey with the nautical theme, zest for life, and love of family that ties these two fellow travellers together...

"I want others to know that no matter what may come my way, that cancer has not and is not beating me down, it may adjust my sails, but it is not stopping the boat. Each of us has a journey that we are on. Cancer may be a part of my journey, but it does not make me who I am. My partner, my children, my family and my friends are what make me who I am."  Limey

AMEN to that!

------------------

"Crossing the Bar"

Alfred Lord Tennyson

Sunset and evening star
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,


But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.


Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;


For though from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.

Remembering, reflecting, and releasing...

Rob; in Vancouver

"Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned."
Edna St. Vincent Millay

Facing Death

One of the central characters in the novel “Snow Falling on Cedars” by David Guterson, is a young Japanese American girl by the name of Hatsue. Hatsue lives in two worlds, the modern world of 20th Century America and the ancient world of her traditional Japanese roots. She learns of her Japanese roots through an elder in her community, Mrs. Shigemura. I was struck by this particular exchange…

“Mrs. Shigemura taught her to seek union with the greater life and to imagine herself as a leaf on a great tree. The prospect of death in the autumn, she said, was irrelevant next to its happy recognition of its participation in the life of the tree itself. In America, she said, there was a fear of death; here life was separate from being. A Japanese, on the other hand, must see that life embraces death, and when she sees the truth of this, she will gain tranquility.”
David Guterson “Snow Falling on Cedars”

-------------------

Death is a difficult thing to face and talk about.  We often want to avoid thinking or talking about it in order to stay focused on the positive. But my experience has been that thoughts and questions about death inevitably emerge in the wake of a life-threatening diagnosis. Thus, it can be healthy, helpful, and indeed "positive" to reflect on death from time to time rather than leave it as an unnamed fear in the back of the mind.

In my experience as a pastor I have had the humble blessing of being with dying people and their loved ones on well over 200 occasions as I accompanied them through the final days and "celebrated life" in various memorial formats.  I remember each person well.  Their names are written in my journals and the witness of their "living and dying" informs my understandings of "life and death". 

In many instances I have found that the level of anguish and grief surrounding death is very much lessened as folks make their peace with it along the way.  One of the strange blessings of cancer is that it does allow for time for people to move through stages, to adjust to,  and to prepare for death.  This often means that important things can be said and done which can make this stage of life a rich blessing for both the person dying and their special friends and family.

--------------------

In many respects living with cancer ultimately means facing the reality of our mortality.  For me, this process began very shortly after my diagnosis in August 2004. My surgeon was fairly certain of the advanced staging of my cancer and he shared all of the information with me in an honest and caring way. I have a vivid memory of a long and tearful night in the hospital listening to Simon and Garfunkel on the headphones and adjusting to the news of my cancer. It was fairly clear to me that death was a possibility. Not a possibility I wanted to pursue, but one that I needed to face.

Facing death remains an ongoing theme in my cancer journey and it weaves like a golden thread in and out of my journal as it does my consciousness. My challenge has been to face death in a life-giving way that helps me to overcome my fear and that truly brings "tranquility".

Death… I wouldn’t want to dwell on it… but I wouldn’t want to ignore it either!

Deep peace of the Autumn Forest to you…  Rob

-----------------------

“There is no cure for birth and death,
save to enjoy the interval.”

George Santayana (1863 - 1952)

originally posted June 2007