On World Cancer Survivors’ Day

Shining star

Shining star

In some ways my mom is, in fact, a cancer survivor – she’s shed the body that was riddled with the stuff and is happy and healthy now, in another realm. Maybe it’s just the realm of my dreams, but that’s good enough for me. It’s quite uncanny how she comes to me in my dreams around significant times in our family. She’s always happy and healthy. I hadn’t even really been conscious that it’s her birthday tomorrow until this morning when my brother-in-law invited me for dinner in honour of our mother tomorrow night. I think it’s vital for us to celebrate these days and keep the memory of our mom and grandmother alive.

Angel tree

Angel tree

So, I want to pay tribute to anyone who has lost someone they love to cancer, and to all my people who are battling this horrid disease.  You are champions (especially you, Fi!) going through a brave and difficult time. Please know how loved you are and how many people are rooting for you. There is every reason to fight and to live.
Peace

Peace

The poem that kept coming to me when my mom was dying was Dylan Thomas’s “Do not go gentle into that good night”. I’ll pop it on this page for you to read – very significant for Cancer Survivors’ Day! I raise my hat and my glass to all my people who are struggling with cancer and who are doing their best to kick its butt, as well as all their loved ones who are holding the fort. Big Love.

❤️

Do not go gentle into that good night

Dylan Thomas1914 – 1953

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Inviting gateway

Inviting gateway

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One response to “On World Cancer Survivors’ Day

  1. My mother died of cancer in 1975. “The Big C” remains with those who stay behind for ever. Thank you for taking time to write about it (I did too). It is a comfort to know that there are other people dealing with the same issues.

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