Free of me

beautiful artwork

by sarah skees

It begins to dawn on us that what is now at hand is all we will ever have.
We can no longer stretch this moment beyond itself and live in the abstract future. Our attention is increasingly drawn toward our immediate aliveness.
Since tomorrow is no longer a certainty, we begin to trust where we are now more than where we are going or where we have been.
We fall into our aliveness because
all the bridges away from this moment
have been burned.

Lessons from the Dying - Rodney Smith

Memorial Day weekend was a blur of sleeping, reading, sleeping, eating, sleeping, playing Bookworm, wandering outside now and then...and sleeping.

It was hot and humid all weekend, but there were some amazingly beautiful moments of thunderstorms. I did sit in the garage Sunday night watching the storm, listening to the blues on 101. Looking back, this was probably my favorite part of the weekend.

I didn't leave the house all weekend. Having chemo on Wednesdays is working out well as far as when my crash occurs. I make it thru the rest of the workweek and then use the weekend to rest and recuperate.

The extra day this past weekend was nice from the R&R perspective. As far as having any fun or getting anything accomplished, Saturday and Sunday were wasted days. Yesterday I did laundry and cooked. I am at work today, and feeling better/stronger every day.

***

My life is so very different, so very limited. I am progressively less able to do things physically. I get tired very easily, I can't handle any amount of heat (I've had my AC cranked up (or down...whatever) and it's only May), I can't walk any distance, I have pain in various parts of my body, and I simply cannot breathe well.

At times it feels like my body is suffocating me from the inside out. My left lung continues to cause problems. It is irreparably damaged and now always has fluid around it, as does my heart. My throat feels like someone is strangling me, it constricts and tightens. I know that chemo is slowly doing all of this to me. I know that I need to enjoy what little I still can while I still can. I know it could be so much worse, but I also know it won't get any better and will progressively get worse.

For someone who is as claustrophobic as I am, this is all pretty much a living nightmare. I feel trapped. TRAPPED...in my own messed-up body and life. Freedom and space have always been like air to me, don't fence me in, don't rein me in...I will break free. It seems ironic that this is happening to me this way. That the smothered feeling I've run from my entire life is a constant companion in my life now, I can't run from it any longer.

I accept all of this. I have no choice. I do not embrace it, I hate it. But maybe my lesson in all of this is to learn to find freedom anywhere, even in the most limiting of situations. Freedom is a state of mind, not a state of being. I am free, I always have been...I just didn't know it. Or maybe I've always wanted to be more free.

I recall sitting on a curb in Westport when I was in my 20's reading my horoscope from The Pitch. It spoke to me and seemed so deep and so true. I ripped it out, laminated it, and saved it all these years; here's part of what it said:

"You'll become so free that you'll even be free of freedom; you'll even be free of yourself."

I remember thinking how cool that sounded. Free of me. I wish.

When I was diagnosed 2 years ago I told Dad I wanted to run away to some tropical island...to escape the doctors and tests and needles and pain. Just avoid altogether feeling/looking like I do now, instead living the rest of my days walking barefoot on the beach, watching the sun rise and set each day over the ocean. No more fighting...just let the cancer have its way.

If you know your time is limited, that seems like a more ideal way to spend it as opposed to turning into a shadow of your former self, slowly but surely fading away.

Dad and I agreed then though, no matter where I go, I will be there...which means all of my problems will be too. Unfortunately though, I can't escape myself and all that comes with being me. I would like my old self back, my old life...but I know that's not possible either. Now, and this life is all I've got, it's all any of us have really.

***
Rather than ask myself the pointless question: why me? I ask: why not me?

So many people have had so much less time on this earth...so many have had so much more time. I'm right in the middle. Grateful for the 43.5 years I have had, but craving more...like, about 30 or 40 more. At this point turning 50 sounds good. On my worst days, I wonder if I'll make it to 44.

Most people dread getting older, I see it differently...I would love to age gradually, get gray hair and wrinkles. I hear people complain about their birthdays, about the natural changes their bodies are going through. They have no clue how lucky they are. In some ways though, I know that I have no clue how lucky (and free) I am and always have been.