[cancer] The Fear leaves a calling card in the hallway of my heart

Yesterday I was running errands in the Genre car (yes, with the top down) and listening to Camper Van Beethoven‘s All Her Favorite Fruit, from Key Lime Pie. I started sobbing, and for a time, could not make myself stop.

I very nearly turned and headed for home. But I’m trying not to be a burden to Lisa Costello right now, as she is going through so much family stress. My arrival at Nuevo Rancho Lake shaking and crying would not improve her day in the slightest.

So I thought about how much she needs me to be strong and smart right now. How much I need that from myself. How impossible a goal that is, and how impossible it is for me not to make the attempt.

Eventually I fought myself down to a sniffle, and went on with my day.

The Fear is like that. I am a dead man walking. Sometimes my mind and heart and body remember that so much that I can do nothing else but be afraid. Not so much of death itself, as of loss, and of the pain and sorrow I will leave behind.

As for that song, it reminds me of my childhood. I have literally played croquet behind white washed walls within intervention’s distance of the embassy. Just thinking about it as I write this is making my throat catch and my eyes sting.

We never know who we will become. My life makes me proud and happy. But I never planned to become a dead man.

Then again, who does?

4 thoughts on “[cancer] The Fear leaves a calling card in the hallway of my heart

  1. Nat Iwata says:

    What a poignant and well written entry. You are always so incredibly honest when you share these moments with the rest of us, and they are terrible and beautiful. Thanks Jay.

  2. Amy Thomson says:

    Ram Dass once spoke about visiting a Quaker woman in a hospice. “How are you doing?” He asked. “Terrible! Dying is so boring!” she complained.
    “Well then, how about only dying ten minutes out of every hour?”
    Sounds like a very rough ten minutes you had.
    This fear you have of dying is really interfering with the life you have left. Is there some way to let it go, so you can live fully in the present moment, which is really all any of us have? Whenever I catch myself obsessing about something in the past or something that hasn’t happened yet, I say to myself, “Here. Now.” It brings me into the present moment, the now my consciousness inhabits. Wishing you freedom from fear and the suffering it brings. Love, Amy

  3. Danielle Gembala says:

    Fear is the inevitable companion, it seems giant and endless. Know that you will also leave your love, compassion, beauty, words, and stories. They will outive the fear and pain. Hugs.

  4. Alexis says:

    Fear is what crystalizes a moment, an experience, a relationship, a goal. It forces us to see the magnitude of what we are facing and what the alternatives could be. It is an excruciating teacher of microscopic details. And, once again, I am so horrified and sorry that this is happening to you.

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