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Including resources and inspiration to get you through this difficult time.
Vulnerability
Last week, I was supposed to have my 5-year cancer-free checkup. Nothing, even a celebration of surviving, is more important than protecting those most vulnerable right now.
The Poem That Started it All.
From the bedroom window
I can hear birds
Chattering among branches pregnant with budding leaves
Hyacinth and cherry blossoms are already blooming
The magnolia will soon follow.
It occurs to me how much of life
Is oblivious to the unrelenting, destructive march of a virus
That will kill many
Disrupt us all.
Even as I write, our black cat is nudging my hand
Her soft face warm against my skin.
The unknown.
The not knowing.
I remember when they found cancer in my own body
I looked for signs to tell me
How bad it would get
I took a run around the lake to clear my head, and as I ran
I heard a commotion overhead
An eagle had snatched a baby crow from its nest
The distraught parents in their rage
Flew at the great bird, screaming
But the eagle, unfazed, disappeared over treetops
Carrying the bloody chick to perhaps its own nest in the high snags.
I knew then that survival would be brutal.
This virus.
Our world.
Entire communities.
Neighborhoods and families.
People we love.
You.
Me.
This little black cat by my side.
The eagles, the crows, the finches.
Hyacinth and cherry blossoms.
Above all else, life wants to live.
March 2, 2020
I find myself lurking in my own garden these days. I’m trying to find energy on the bad days, looking for some type of peace on the long days, and tending to it on my good days.