Day 70

"Are you going to write about it?" he asked.

"What?" I replied, as if I didn't know.

"You know, what we're going through..." he answered.

I didn't share my first reaction which was NO! Hell, no! There are enough blogs, and books and stories and articles devoted to cancer. I am more interested in writing about those moments of grace when I am present and aware and certain of my place in the universe. I do not want to turn my life over to cancer. I do not want to sacrifice my peace of mind on the alter of fear.

I've been thinking a lot about the time 9 years ago when Bill developed a serious illness that put us on a medical merry-go-round. We had only been married about a year. We came home one day from a round of medical appointments and as I was making dinner I looked down to discover that my wedding ring was gone.

I searched frantically in the crisper compartment of the refrigerator, in the garage where I had been cleaning earlier; I remember sorting through the garbage with tears streaming down my face. As a last resort I got back in my car and drove to the office of Bill's doctor. The office manager met me at the door, she was just closing up. I was crying hysterically at this point, trying to explain about my ring between gasps and hiccups.

What I couldn't explain was the certainty with which I felt that losing the ring was a bad omen. I had read once about a superstition that associates a lost wedding ring with the death of a spouse. As crazy as it seems in hindsight, I feared that my carelessness would cost Bill his life.

Our wedding rings were made for us by a family member, an artisan who specializes in metallurgy. On the surface of each of our rings he etched the Chinese symbol for grace. Grace is a gift. To live in grace is to live in gratitude. The only way to do that is to be fully present and recognize the fullness of each moment. When Bill got sick, we stopped doing that. That is one of my greatest regrets.

It's funny how life gives you do-overs, even when you would rather take a pass. I don't know what lies ahead for us. But I do know that I am committed to maintaining my peace of mind and to being present for Bill. I refuse to see cancer as an enemy. Instead, I am trying to welcome it, as an opportunity for grace.