It’s been a challenging year for all of us, and frankly I’m glad to see 2020 pass on by tonight. My prayer is that 2021 will be a better year for all of us. It can be if we lean in, strengthen our web of connections, and pay attention to life.
Living with a chronic and/or terminal condition can be a lonely, confusing, and difficult journey. Most folks are really good about responding to the initial crisis, but when it settles into weeks, months, or years of treatments, medical procedures and appointments, and life adjustments things can get complicated. It’s tough to know what to say or do when your family and/or friends are hurting. My advice? Each person’s situation and needs are different. But try. It’s better to be awkward and say the wrong thing than to say nothing at all or just slip out of contact.
For me the situation is two-fold. First, I don’t like to bother folks with my problems, and 2) it’s one of my growing edges to ask for and gratefully receive help. Thankfully, many good friends and my amazing extended family continue to pray and walk with me on this journey, and that makes all the difference in the world.
When I see your posts and “likes” on Facebook in response to my blog entries or posts, it does wonders to pep me up and keep me going. When a card or note arrives in the mail, it’s a big boost. Why? I know that prayer works, community matters, and people care.
Recently I received gifts of beautiful handcrafted (and WARM) hats and accessories. When I wear the hats and scarves or when I cuddle under a gift blanket during chemo, I carry you with me, and I am blessed by your ministry of presence and caring. When I gaze on the beauty of flowers (a luxury I rarely allow myself to purchase), your love and care are right there. Yes, presence and caring; even though COVID is keeping us apart, it’s these tangible signs of your love and solidarity keep me bounding up that staircase at M.D. Anderson–Cooper on the wings of eagles to receive my chemo and fully and faithfully live another day.
Right now, most cancer patients cannot even have someone accompany them for treatment/procedures in an effort to keep us from COVID exposure. Little things like notes, texts, and practical expressions of love and support–like warm hats and socks and kind encouraging words–stand in for the lack of face-to-face time with friends and family.
On this last night of 2020, I want to thank all of you for the many ways you have lifted my spirits, augmented my courage, and kept me strong during a particularly grueling few months. I love you all and am so grateful to be a part of this wider, stronger web of connection that just continues to ripple across the cosmos. To my many friends, family, and colleagues who are living with chronic and terminal conditions, please know that I hold you in daily prayer. We are all stronger together, and don’t forget: We all get by with a little help from our friends. Thank you! Happy New (and better, please) Year!