The Tree

During these months and months of treatment, people have said a lot of things to me about my positive attitude. They’ve called me inspiring and said that if they were in my place they would most certainly feel sorry for themselves.

It is all just grace and the presence of the Holy Spirit. I’m more surprised than anyone else. And I’m grateful for all the prayers that have been a great part of the healing and of my ongoing sense of peace.

It has not been fake or forced. I keep waiting for the depression to descend, but it never does. Oh, sure, I’ve been frustrated a lot. I’ve been sad, especially the days I can’t do the things that were easy to do. I’ve felt helpless, and that is not a good feeling. I don’t feel like I’m pulling my weight (figuratively and literally) around here. But also I’ve just found deep reserves of acceptance at all levels. For the most part, the things I’ve feared most have not happened. Numbers have gone down and scans have become clear and in surgery no drastic actions were taken and no cancer was left behind.

One of the more popular posts I’ve written here is the one on resiliency. It was about believing we could keep our selves despite changes to our body shapes, physical compromise. For me, the real moment of truth was the surgery. I was worried about the scar, which would be formidable. I took photos of my stomach and my body, thin from chemo, so I would remember the “before.” I’m not vain and I’ve always had a complicated relationship with my belly! There was no point in my life when I desired or would have felt comfortable in a bikini. But still.

So one big surprise is how easily I have embraced the scar, the change to my body. Maybe it is, again, low expectations– hey, that’s not that bad. It’s even interesting, and kind of funny, with its little detour around my belly button.

About a week before surgery, Steve and I went for a walk in Eagle Park, a great small park with an eagle living at its center. Steve had burned the park’s prairie, which is basically the entire park. It also has beautiful oaks and very large slabs of granite poking out of the ground. The fire in the spring did its job of clearing weeds and making room for large stands of native grasses and flowers.

I took a photo of the tree above. I didn’t think of it as a photo of a scar. I took a photo of this tree because I thought it was interesting and beautiful. Is it possible I feel that way about my scarred belly, too?

Well, I won’t be putting on a bikini anytime soon. I am looking forward to building back my “physical confidence” and pushing my body on long walks and in exercise again. I have lost that confidence, so am looking forward to seeing all the things it can do.

Meanwhile, what grace, again, what outpouring of grace and mercy, that I can look at myself in the mirror and not grieve but see something interesting, and strong, like that oak.